Can't Beat 'Em, Join Em
by TheBucketWoman
Summary: This year's Battle of the Bands is coming, and Derek thought he could beat out the competition. Little does he know...Shemily, Eventual Dasey.
1. Chapter 1

Can't Beat 'Em, Join Em

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own LWD, or any of the characters therein.

Part One: Sheldon

I was at Emily's house not studying. We planned to continue not studying for as long as possible but I heard "I'm not crazy/ I'm just a little unwell" coming from Emily's phone on the coffee table and knew that was it for today.

"Casey," Emily told me, then she picked up. "Sup. Okay, okay calm down...breathe...well...why don't you come over, then...okay..." She mouthed _Sorry_ at me. "See you in a few."

"What'd Max do?" I said.

"I guess we're gonna find out," Em said. "in detail." Emily got up and opened the door for a red-faced Casey.

Emily said that I should stay, but I could tell that Casey didn't really want me to, so I tried to make myself invisible because Casey wanted girl talk. Not that I wasn't listening. Sorry, but there wasn't much else to do.

Casey and Max were fighting, of course. I've seen this show before.

"Like okay," Casey said "I get that he got mad because I needed to blow off that party to help my Mom that time, and when I left the football game and ended up trying to save Edwin and Lizzie's party. But, still, it's not like any relationship is perfect. There's gotta be a give and take, right?"Casey asked

"I mean, I go to all of his games even though I still don't know what the hell's going on, and I keep thinking 'fling-flong' every time someone gets a touchdown," Casey said. "And he goes to see my stuff...eventually. He gave up those tickets to whatever the hell band it was he wanted to see to come to my play. He fell asleep in the middle of my debate and snored, but that's just because he was sleep-deprived and his sinuses were acting up. But my point is, we try to compromise all over the place."

This was going to be a while, so I started to wonder if it was time to go home to my solitary Kraft Dinner, but then Emily waved me over.

"Sheldon," she said. "What do you think?"

I looked at Emily like "Are you crazy?" because I really don't like to tell the truth when Casey has easy access to blunt objects like the remote and that butt ugly paperweight Dimi made in school. But Emily's not letting me off the hook, so...

"Um," I said. "Sounds like you don't really like the guy," I ducked in anticipation of flying paperweight, but it never came.

"Of course I do!" Casey said. "What are you talking about?"

"It doesn't seem like you have much in common," I said. "I mean, what do you two talk about?"

"He tries to teach me about sports," she said. "And I try to get him into movies with dialogue that doesn't include 'I'm getting too old for this shit.' "

"And how's that working out?" I said. I was feeling bold. She hadn't hit me yet.

"I dunno," Casey said. "Oh gawd, why does this keep happening to me?" She put her head on Emily's shoulder. I hoped she wasn't going to wipe her nose on Em's sweater. I have dreams about that sweater in all its tight fuzzy glory.

I perched on the edge of an armchair. Over the top of Casey's head, Emily caught my eye and tried to look apologetic. I looked at my watch. It wasn't even four o' clock yet.

"Well," I said. "I guess I'll leave you ladies to it. I have some homework to do." Even though it was Friday.

Casey looked up and said, "I'm sorry, you guys, I just interrupted something, didn't I?"

_Yes_, I thought. "No," I said.

"No!" Emily said.

"Oh my God, I did didn't I?" Casey said. "You're shirt is half unbuttoned!" she said, pointing at me. I looked down and noticed that for the first time. It was also half untucked. The sweater I'd been wearing over it was probably under Emily. I pulled the tail of my shirt out the rest of the way and buttoned it back up.

"Oh my God," Casey said. "Oh my God. I did that to Mom and George yesterday, too!" There was an image that I really could have lived a long and happy life without having. "I've become the Interrupter. You guys, I'm so sorry!"

We were trying to assure her that it was no big deal after all what kind of friends would we be if we couldn't be there to listen to her babble, when my phone rang.

Default ringer. No idea who it was. I usually let calls like that go direct to voicemail, but any distraction at that point was a good distraction.

"Hey," I said.

"Schlep, where are you now?"

"Derek?"

"The same," he said. "So, where are you?"

"Emily's," I said, "Why?"

"Because I called a D-Rock rehearsal, and I don't see you here," he said. "I texted you."

"You did?"

"I did," he said. "So get your silly ass over here." He hung up.

"What'd he want," Emily said.

I told her and Casey what he'd told me.

"Since when?" Casey said.

"Hell if I know," I said. "I thought that whole 'join the band' thing was to get him out of a detention, and it didn't even work."

"You're not going over there, are you?" Casey said.

Now there was a thinker. Did I want to leave all this estrogen or did I want to go find out what Derek's ulterior motive for wanting me to join his band was?

"Look at that," I said. "He _did_ text me."

The two of them were expecting an answer.

"Not if you don't want me to," I said to Emily.

"Nah," Emily said. "See what Derek wants." I will love her forever. I walked over to the back of the couch to give her an upside-down kiss, knocking over a few chess pieces on the table next to me because I can never seem to pass that table without knocking something down. Casey leaned over to right the chess pieces and I made my getaway.

I hightailed it across Emily's lawn and knocked on Derek/Casey's door.

"Took ya long enough," Derek said. He turned and walked back toward the couch. I hadn't moved yet so he said, "You waiting for an engraved invitation or something? And close the door behind you. You're letting the heat out."

Sam stuck out a hand for me to shake and Ralph nodded a greeting.

Derek got up from his spot on the couch and began to pace. "So," Derek said. "I was telling Ralphie and Sam that we should learn some covers, you know, while we work on our original stuff."

Sam watched Derek walk back and forth the way a cat will still watch the beam of a flash light after its figured out where it's coming from. Not fooled, but still interested in playing.

Ralph, of course, was fascinated.

"So I've downloaded some tabs and stuff, but so far—"Derek said.

"So far, he can't play the stuff he picked," Sam said. "And nobody can sing it."

"What about Casey?" I said.

"Said no, dude," Ralph said, mournfully. "No more Casey. No tank tops. No more hair swish..." He demonstrated or tried to, with his own short hair.

"Ew, dude, stop," Derek said. I looked around to see if anyone believed that Derek was grossed out by the thought of Casey and her hair swish, and it didn't look like anyone did.

"So you're what," I said "desperate?"

"No!" Derek said.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Li'l bit," Ralph said.

"An entire school full of people and you can't find a singer?" I said.

"I—we have high standards," Derek said. "Can't pick just anybody to be in D-Rock, now can we? And the audition process...well it can be kinda grueling,"

"Like you held auditions before?" I asked. Casey told Emily, and Emily told me, all about the last time D-Rock held auditions. He got his little brother to hold them for him.

"Edwin told him to go to Hell, too," Sam said. Ralph nodded.

Derek shot Sam a look, and ran a hand through his hair. "So listen, Schlepper," he said. "I'm gonna be honest with you."

"For a change?" I said. This was fun.

"I wanted to call you, because you're the best."

I laughed.

"You don't think you're the best singer for the job?" Derek asked. "You really should work on your self-esteem."

"I think very highly of myself actually. I just don't think that _you_ do," I said. "So tell the truth, you alienated everyone else, didn't you?"

"Nope," he said. "Just Casey. And you're number two on the list."

"I'm honored," I said. "This wouldn't have anything to do with this year's Clash of the Bands, would it?

"Is_ that_ coming up?" Derek said. Even Ralph rolled his eyes.

"How bout this," Sam broke in. "We want someone who can sing and play keyboards, and thought you might want a full band behind you?" He looked at Derek, who nodded so hard I could hear his neck pop.

I didn't buy it, but I was bored, and didn't want to go home, and anyway, you can't put a microphone in front of me and not expect me to use it.

So next thing I knew, Sam, Ralph, and I were kicking song ideas back and forth and Derek was vetoing most of them. Hard to figure out why he couldn't keep a lead singer.

"'Home Sweet Home'" Ralph said.

"Meh," Derek said.

"'November Rain'" I said.

"Too big," Derek said. And Derek is no Slash.

" 'Patience'" I said.

"Nuh-uh," Derek said.

"'Smells Like Teen Spirit'" Sam said. Everyone looked up at Derek expecting a yes.

"Everyone does that," he said. "That and 'I Wanna Be Sedated.'" At that Ralph put his hand down.

I snorted. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"No," Derek said.

I sat down at the piano and lifted the lid over the keyboard. It was a little dusty.

"Does anyone play this thing?" I said. Derek shrugged.

"Edwin," he said. "A little. And my Dad."

I shook my head and started noodling with it. It was in tune, at least. I started playing the opening to Phantom Planet's "California," a very distinctive thing, and ducked the paperback that I saw flying at me from the corner of my eye.

"Can you sing that?" Ralph asked.

"I dunno," I said. "Probably."

I would've loved to be able to draw just so I could capture that look in Derek's eyes right then. It was the look of a vampire in a blood bank, a cat in a catnip processing plant, a teenage virgin at the Playboy Mansion. It was beyond predatory.

"Okay," he said. "Not that I want you to play that song, it'll remind me too much of that show Casey likes, but can you handle that chorus? Like belt it out?"

"Uh-huh," I said.

"Right now?" he said.

I looked at my watch. "You have neighbors coming home from work right about now, don't you?"

"So?"

"So, noise complaints?"

"Like you're gonna be that damn loud?"

He wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier. I just stared at him, waiting for his brain to catch up.

"You're telling me that you are that loud?" Derek asked.

"If you want me to belt, then, yeah," I said. My mom likes to tell people that I'm going to study opera. I let her labor under that delusion. I have the lungs, but otherwise...not happening. But I do have some lungs.

"Do it," Derek said.

There was no way I was gonna do it. But I played the opening and launched into the song. Ralph started to join in on the drums right off the bat, then Sam joined in. I never heard Derek's guitar kick in. I assumed he'd let me get as far as the first chorus, and when we got there, I gave it half power. That was enough. He didn't say anything, so we kept going until he finally got it together enough to join in.


	2. Chapter 2

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: Nice, non-litigious (I hope) folk own _LWD_. Not me.

Chapter Two

Part Two: Casey.

Derek snaps his fingers and everyone just hops to. Thought Sheldon was smarter than that, but...

"I can't believe he went over there," I said.

Emily didn't seem upset enough by this. "Hmm?" she said.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," Emily said. "You didn't want Sheldon to go to your house." Emily was picking at some chipped red polish on her thumbnail, and she seemed much more absorbed in that than she was in anything that's come out of my mouth in the past ten minutes.

"Okay," I said. "_Why_ don't I want him to go over there?"

"Because that means he'd rather let Derek boss him around than sit here and listen to you."

"Hey!" I said. "That is so not it! I'm annoyed that he ran over there as soon as Derek summoned him."

"Casey," Emily said. "Sheldon's a _boy_. He sensed that it was getting mighty girly in here, and he took the first chance he could to run. If his phone hadn't rung, he would've pulled the 'I think I hear my mama calling' thing."

"Well now you're making it seem like all I do is complain," I said. "And if you're really so sick of it, I'll just leave." I got up from the couch and reached for my coat again.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Casey, stop being such a drama queen. You know that's not what I said." She got up after me and took my coat again.

"Then, what _did_ you say?" I asked.

"Listen, Case," Emily said. "We're best friends, and that goes a long long way. That means that I will always help you with your boy issues and you will always help me with mine. It also means that I will tell you the truth when you need it. You are a drama queen. You are _the only_ drama queen, in fact. And as your friend I've learned to ride it out when you go all Hurricane Casey on me. Sheldon signed no such contract. I'd think he's been pretty patient with you, actually. Especially since you didn't even pretend to think that he was anything less than a loser when we started going out. And you looked down your nose at him right in front of him."

"But, he's Sheldon," I said, unable to stop myself.

"Okay, so you say things like that and then you wonder why he took off," Emily said. "You know, he's nowhere near as oblivious as he pretends to be."

I was really starting to feel guilty. So I went on the defensive.

"As if I were the only one!" I said. "Derek did it too!"

"Nope," Emily said. "Derek was mostly polite. Not friendly, but polite enough. He's chased him off, but he did it with the least amount of outward rudeness."

"And now he's probably using him to win Clash of the Bands," I said.

"There you go again, acting like Sheldon's an idiot," Emily said.

I heard the music start then, so I pointed toward my house and said. "You were saying?" right as I heard Sheldon's voice kick in.

"I like this song," Emily said.

I liked it too, dammit.

"You know you're dying to go see what's going on," Emily said.

"You're the one who's dying to see what's going on," I said.

"I don't deny it," Emily said. "But you're curious too, admit it."

So we ended up going over there, and I guess I'm glad we did.

Mostly because I got to see that stupid dumbfounded look on Derek's face when Sheldon schooled him.

Meanwhile Captain Oblivious and his crew didn't notice us standing there until Emily applauded and held up her cell phone. Sheldon spun around on the piano bench and Emily put her arms around him again and gave him a little peck.

"So, Rock Star," she said. "Can I get backstage?"

Derek said "Ew" under his breath. Sam smacked him in the head. Ralphie grinned at the spectacle.

"So, Yoko, Yoko's friend," Derek said. "This is sorta what you would call a _closed_ rehearsal, so if you don't mind. Even if you _do_ mind..."

"Hear that?" Emily said to Sheldon, "I'm Yoko!" Then she turned to Derek, "I _am_ the Yoko, right?"

Derek sighed. "Yeah," he said. "Now if you'll excuse us."

"Actually," Sam said. "Maybe we could use their help?" Sam is too sweet sometimes.

"Yeah," Ralphie said. "They could be our sexy back up singers?" Everyone gave him the glare of doom. Except for Emily who looked flattered. Doesn't take much to make her happy.

"Or our not-sexy back up singers?" Ralph said. "Our liberated women back up singers?"

_Aw,_ I thought._ Look at him trying to find the right answer. Somebody let him off the hook._

"Actually Ralphie, buddy," Derek began. "I don't know if we want someone who has so thoroughly snubbed us, now do we?"

Ralph nodded. Derek continued to glare.

"No," Derek said slowly. "We do _not."_

"I don't remember Casey snubbing_ me,_" Ralph said. "_You_ maybe."

Maybe Ralph's not so bad.

"Well," Derek said, ignoring that, "I'm not unreasonable..."

"Hee," I said.

"If _Emily_ would like to try out..."

"Nope," Emily said. "I'm the Yoko, and I'm sticking to it."

"Might be fun, babe," Sheldon said.

"Uh-uh," Emily said.

But Sheldon wasn't done. "Pleeeeaaaaase?" he said.

"It'd be weird," Emily said.

"Maybe Casey too," Sheldon said. Derek shot daggers at him.

"I mean, okay," Sheldon began. "I get that Casey said no to you guys already, but maybe she can be persuaded back in?"

I couldn't figure out Sheldon's angle. Was he scared of Derek already?

"Why?" Derek and I said at the same time.

"Think about it," Sheldon said. "More singers, fuller sound. We can do stuff with harmonies."

"Shel's got a point," Sam said. I shot Sam a dirty look, which he pretended not to understand. He grinned his game-show host grin.

"Might make us sound that much more professional," Sheldon said. I was impressed. The kid knew exactly what button to push.

Derek sighed and threw his hands up. "You wanna?" he asked me.

"Well," I said. "Since you asked so nicely..." I paused here for dramatic effect, waiting until every eye was on me.

"No," I said, and started upstairs.

Sheldon put his head down on the piano with a clunk. I'd have to apologize to him later, for a lot of things, but there were too many people around at that moment.

At the top of the stairs, I noticed that Emily wasn't behind me. I looked down to see her shaking her head like she'd let me have it later.

I headed toward my room to start composing my apology email. When I felt like I had a good enough final draft, I went online so that I could cut and paste it in.

There were several emails in the spam filter. More than usual, so I went in there because sometimes my browser screws up and puts the wrong emails in there. Sure enough, there were five emails from Noel Covington. I put him in my address book and opened the first one.

I nearly fell out of my chair when I read what he had to say.


	3. Chapter 3

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I have no claim on LWD.

Chapter Three

Part Three: Derek

I needed some time to regroup. I was beyond pissed at Casey. I mean there I was, against my better judgment, asking Casey if she wanted back in. And what did she say? She said _NO_. Then she skipped off to her room, like she _got_ me or something. I was ready to break shit.

But the day wasn't a total loss. I learned something new: Bad things come from listening to Sheldon. He's... _nice_. We can't have that. But I guess the sight of him banging his head on the piano like that one Muppet on Sesame Street was kinda encouraging. It meant he was pretty disgusted, too. So he won't be trying anything like that again. Trying to get Casey to rejoin, I mean, what was the boy _thinking_?

But asking him to join was one of my better ideas. Or Sam's. One of those. Anyway, the Schlepmeister cannot beat us if he's one of us.

So the first thing the kid did after he was done giving himself a concussion was apologize like it was his fault Casey was being a beeyotch.

"Don't be sorry," Sam said.

"You didn't do it," I said. "You were just being...a _good person_." I shuddered.

"We'll help you break that habit." I finished patting him on the head.

"Should I be scared?" Sheldon asked, wrinkling his nose, like a bunny.

"I would," I said.

"Definitely," Ralph said.

"Well," Sheldon said. "Thanks for the warning."

As for Emily, we took her. She's an okay singer, but she's kinda timid. I swear, she was trying to hide behind the microphone stand. Sheldon tried to be all cheerleader-y and "you can do it" to get her to loosen up, and Ralph tried to be his horndog self, encouraging her to—I think it was "shake that nice badonkadonk" (I think it might be too late to pretend I don't know Ralph, but sometimes I really want to try). These things made her even more nervous, and if she's nervous in a room with _us_, imagine what's gonna happen in front of the school.

So it was time for drastic action.

"Emily!" I said. She jumped.

"Over there," I pointed to the middle of the living room, dead center in front of the drum kit. She was too shocked to do anything but obey.

"Now," I began. "you will take this mic stand. You will grab it, and you will use it. You're gonna sing the first thing that pops into your head, AND YOU'RE GONNA DO IT NOW!"

Then there was a moment of dead silence where I started to worry that she was gonna cry. And she laughed her head off. Hey, whatever works, huh? She started flailing her arms, like I must've been doing, as she giggled.

"Whenever you're ready," I said, starting to get a little annoyed. It's always nice to know how commanding and forceful you're not.

When she calmed down, I pointed to the microphone and said, "Listen, Em. This is a hairbrush, or the plastic thingee on the end of a jump rope, whatever you like. And yes I remember you doing that..."

"You did it too," she said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I recall no such thing." I said.

"So is that a tennis racket?" she said, pointing at my guitar.

"This is a pickle tub," Ralph said, hitting his bass pedal.

"Zip it," I said. I gave Ralph a dirty look. He grinned at me."My point is, _Emily_, that you were not shy when we were little. There is no reason to be all shy now. So just do it. If you can carry a tune, you'll be miles ahead of me."

"This is true," Sam said.

"Don't help," I said. I pointed at Emily. "While I'm still young," I said.

She stuck her tongue out, but went over to Sam and whispered in his ear. He snorted, but nodded his head and started to play. While I racked my brain trying to remember what songs had bass or bass-like intros, Emily launched into "In the Cold, Cold Night."

Any White Stripes song would have done the trick for me, but she had to go and hit me with a _Meg_ solo. If I didn't think Sheldon would murder me and stuff me into the window seat (He'd get away with it, too; after all who'd suspect him?) I'd be Emily's slave forever.

She sang it a little lower than the original, and finally injected some attitude into things, swaying her hips just a little. And when she did that, Ralph promptly lost the beat. I mean, it's not even what you'd call a big drum song, but the boy gives new meaning to the term "one-track mind."

"You'll do," I said, as soon as she was done.

Edwin and Lizzie trickled in during the song, and I caught the both of them sitting on the stairs. Edwin was looking at Emily worshipfully. When the song ended, Lizzie got up from her spot and high-fived Emily.

"Did you guys _want_ something?" I said. It's getting so that anyone thinks they can get a free show around here.

"An end to static cling," Edwin said. "But in the short term, I'm good."

Lizzie ignored him. "Where's Casey?" she asked.

"Casey?" I said. "I know no Casey."

"She's upstairs," Sam said. Then he made his hands into two yattering puppets, ending the gesture by pointing at me. Translation: the two idiots are fighting again. He didn't even stop when he saw me looking.

"Ohhhh," Lizzie said, looking at me like "What'd you do this time, Derek?"

"Thanks for the warning," she said.

"Sure thing," Sam said.

Part Four: Casey

"Noel!" I squealed into the phone. I pictured him holding the phone a couple feet away. I gotta work on the squealing thing.

"Hello to you too, Casey," he said.

"So I just got your emails! They were stuck in my spam filter; Dontcha just hate it when that happens? I lose more stuff that way, so I make it a point to put everybody I know who emails me on the safe list, so it doesn't happen again, but I always check. This time, it's a really good thing I checked, I guess, but that's not important. What's important is whether or not I'm too late, so am I too late?"

"Um," Noel said.

"Does that mean I am too late?" I said.

"Um" Noel repeated. "I mean, no, you're not too late. Definitely not."

"Cool!" I said. "So do I meet you and the rest of the guys at your house? Or what?"

"Yeah," he said. "My house."

"So this is where I ask what kind of music you guys play, so I know what to audition with," I said.

"Little of everything," Noel said. "Pop-rock, but we're not snobbish. Probably wanna stay away from the showtunes, though."

"Aw," I said. "No _Oklahoma_?"

"No," he said. "And _Les Mis_ would probably get stuff thrown at you. Just a little warning there."

"No _Yo Ho Hip Hop_?" I asked.

"Weeeellll," Noel began. "No."

I giggled.

So I figured I might have a little band of my own to join.

I was going through my iTunes list on my computer, trying to decide what to sing. I kicked myself for not asking whether they wanted me to sing a capella or with them, because that can figure into my song choice, and anyone who's ever watched Idol knows that song choice is everything. It was hard to concentrate because they were still at it downstairs, and at one point Derek did his Kermit the Frog backstage at _The_ _Muppet Show_ yell. God knew who he was mad at, but it was so hard to take him seriously sometimes.

_If only the speakers on this thing were more powerful_, I thought.

Then Lizzie knocked on my door jamb. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, patting the bed. She sat down and I got up from my desk and sat next to her. Then we talked over each other. Then we both said "You go first!"

"What'd Derek do this time?"

"Huh?" I said. "Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're up here while everybody else is downstairs," Lizzie said. "And Derek was just down there acting like he's never heard of you."

"Oh," I said, flapping one hand. "He's pouting because I wouldn't be his puppet again. So he got some new ones. I just hope Emily and Schlepper will turn the tables on him a little."

"Seemed like he was doing more than pouting," Lizzie said.

"Was he stamping his feet?" I said. "He'll get over it. I'm not that important to him. You can see for yourself how easily I was replaced. If he wanted me, he would've chased me."

"Derek?" Lizzie said. "Chase?"

"Anyway, I have news," I said. "I just got off the phone with someone who wants me in his band for real."

Lizzie gave me the Look.

"Ca-seeeey," she said.

"I don't get you Liz," I said. "I'd think you'd be happy for me."

She heaved a sigh like I was too dense for words. "I'm just gonna shut up," she said.


	4. Chapter 4

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Life with Derek. We all knew that. And I make reference to a bunch of stuff that I don't own either.

Chapter Four

Part Five: George

There is drumming coming from the house when I get there. This is usually pretty entertaining but I have to put on my serious "Cut Out That Noise" face, or else no one will have any fun.

I walk in to find Marti on Ralph's lap, bashing the ever living out of his drums. Nora, predictably enough, has the digital camera in her hand and she's snapping away, secure in the knowledge that this is the cutest thing ever.

Ralph is ostensibly trying to teach her how to keep an actual beat, but I think even he knows that that's a losing battle. She's seven, and like a true Venturi, born to make lots of noise. I felt my stern Dad face fall off and hit the floor with a thud.

"Hey you kids," Derek said "Cut out that noise!" I think it was supposed to sound like me. I reached out and tried to cuff the back of his head, but he ducked, so I waited until he straightened up again and messed up his hair. Then I tried to count heads without making it obvious that that was what I was doing. A crowd like this in my living room can only mean one thing.

"I'm guessing the pizza's on me?" I say over the noise. Then there was silence.

"No pepperoni," Marti said.

"You know how much I love to hear those three words," Sam said.

"Pizza's on me?"

"Those are the ones," Sam said. "But I must go."

"Me too," Ralph said.

"And _we_ have a date," Emily said. From the look on Sheldon's face, this is the first he's heard of that. But he doesn't look like he's about to complain. I can make a prediction: their "date" involves a drive-thru and whichever house proves emptiest. They might even pull a _Lady and the Tramp _with some of the longer french fries.

So a couple of them descended upon the drum kit to take it apart. I thought about telling them to go ahead and leave it there until tomorrow until I remember last time. You just can't leave drums in the house with Marti. Or Derek. Or me for that matter, if I'm being honest.

After those kids that I didn't have to feed by law left the house, I went to the kitchen to get the takeout menu because I can't get the idea of pizza to go away. I came back in to start the pizza topping debate when I noticed that there's one kid missing—Casey.

"Casey on a date?" I asked.

"Nah, she's upstairs," Lizzie said.

"Would you mind terribly asking what she wants on her pizza?" I said.

Lizzie sighed, "Kay."

_Wow_, I thought. She usually said something about not being the mailman. Or mail _person_.

But I've learned not to complain when the kids do stuff the first time I ask. Edwin and Derek put the couch back without being asked. Then they collapsed onto it. Marti wiggled between them and finagled the remote from Derek. Lizzie came down and made Edwin scoot over so she could fit. So far, God was in his Heaven and all was right with the world.

"Did you say pizza?" Casey said. "Green peppers?"

I wrote it down, adding it to the other stuff.

Part Six: Derek

Sometimes I really do think that pizza is the cure for all ills. Pizza is good to me. But this night was one that pizza could not salvage.

I was in a pretty good mood until Casey came down. I'd forgotten all about her. Damn pizza-ruiner.

I focused in on the TV like it was the only thing in the room until the food came. Then I did my best to keep my mouth full so that no one could tell that I was mad enough to get myself grounded if I spoke.

Nora started with the how was your day stuff, and for the first thirty seconds or so, there were crickets because I'm usually the one who starts. Because you can't shut me up. But my mouth was full.

Lizzie talked about some book she was reading for English. I was hoping for a good twenty minutes of that, but Lizzie didn't inherit the longwinded gene.

Edwin wants to resume his managerial duties for the band. He started to talk about setting up an "official photo shoot" this week. He wanted us on YouTube. He wanted the official track list for our first CD. He said he could get a good deal on a thousand copies. Everybody humored him. I grabbed a breadstick and crammed the whole thing into my mouth when he asked me what I thought.

"Ew," Casey said.

Normally I'd take the opportunity to smile at her with sauce dripping down my chin, but she didn't deserve the attention.

"What about you, Casey?" Nora asked. I grabbed another breadstick and dipped it into that ranch crap by accident. Had to eat it anyway.

"I talked to Noel today," she said.

Nora seemed interested. "Oh, so how's he doing?"

"Okay," Casey said. "He asked me if I want to audition for his band."

_Son of a bitch_, I thought. I wondered for a second if I could unhinge my jaw completely to fit the box into my mouth. Edwin looked right at me, moved my glass closer, sensing that I'd need it. I took a mightly gulp of it to help dissolve mouthful of dough that turned to plaster in my mouth. I took a piece of the green pepper that Marti put on the edge of my plate. There are perks to being the family garbage gut.

"He has a band, too?" Nora asked. And then _she_ looked at me. I wondered why this couldn't be one of those nights when she was too busy or too tired to ask questions. "Did you know that Derek?"

I kept chewing. She didn't let go of it, though.

"Derek?" she asked.

"Hmm?" I said. She repeated the question.

"Whatever," I said.

"Pass the soda?" Casey broke in.

"The Clash of the Bands thing is coming up isn't it?" Dad said. I shrugged.

"So the two of you will be competing against each other," he said. "Is that it?"

"Well..." Casey said. This time I looked right at her. I wanted to know what she was going to say.

"I haven't gotten in, yet," she said. Nobody had anything else to say to that.

"Um, seriously," Casey said. "Can someone pass the soda?"

I handed her the bottle, and she jumped like I was about to hit her with it or something. She didn't wanna take it. Lizzie took it instead.

"Can I be excused?" I asked.

"Sure," Dad said. He was watching me a little too closely, so I got up and walked normally till I got to the top of the stairs. Then I ran like hell to the bathroom. Even the pizza was against me tonight.

I stared at myself in the mirror and thought _Don't puke_. Because supposedly the mind over matter thing works for some people. If Sissy Spacek could break mirrors and send her momma across the room with her mind, then I could keep my pizza down.

So much for that theory.

Part Seven: Casey.

Everyone looked at me like I'd stomped a puppy and my stomach slammed shut. I stared at the patterns the grease from the pizza made in my paper plate. Looked like a girl swinging a ponytail. People kept eating after Derek left, but I wanted to go the hell upstairs and apologize suddenly, even though I really couldn't remember having done anything wrong.

"Can I be excused too?" I asked after a couple more minutes.

"I think you wanna stay down here for a little while," George said.

I felt a little indignant. I was about to ask why exactly I should stay where I was just because Derek was too much of a baby to take a little competition, when I remembered about how I acted that day when he asked me to join D-Rock again. It kinda hit me then. If I'd just said no like a normal person Derek would have been a little mad, certainly, but nothing like he was at the table just then. He was mad. Boiling, seething, burst-into-flames mad, but it was more than that.

_Oh my God am I in for it_, I thought. _He's gonna get me so bad_. _Maybe I deserve it. _It was time to be paranoid. I decided that I was keeping all cosmetics, shampoo and soaps in the locked drawer of my dresser. I was changing all my passwords on my laptop. I was boobytrapping my bedroom. _He's up there alone, right now,_ I thought. _I might be too late. _

And all because I'd wanted him to chase me a little. I was feeling undesirable and unloved and I wanted to feel important. God knew Max didn't listen when I talked. At least Derek pays attention, if only to use what I say against me later. I wouldn't have minded joining in, if he'd let me pick a cover or two. But I couldn't seem too eager. So I hemmed and hawed when he asked me if I wanted in. He took it for a no and moved right on to Sheldon. I was such an asshole.

I ended up taking apart the rest of my pizza slice and generally playing with it until it was time to clean up. I offered to clean up myself so that Edwin and Lizzie would stop looking at me like I was the Devil and Marti would stop asking me what the heck was going on.

Derek's door was locked. Not only that, but there was Angry Baritone Music blaring from his room when I got there. Creed. Pearl Jam. Staind.

I made him Creed mad.

I tried to make a list of things I could do to make it up to him. I got as far as chocolate and iTunes cards when I ran out of ideas.

I woke up the next morning with the page stuck to my face.

I went to Noel's. What else was there to do? It would clear my head anyway. The best way to deal with a problem sometimes is to put it aside for a couple of hours.

Noel's Mom was the cutest. She was tiny, with short black hair and a little Irish brogue. She kept trying to feed me something called Jaffa cakes. No idea. But they were good.

Noel came downstairs with his hair wet and his Mom almost chased him across the kitchen with a dishtowel because he'd "catch his death" with his wet hair. Even though he was inside.

"And if ya think I'll be takin care of your silly behind, you're out of your mind, ya germy little bug," she said. He turned a little pink at the fuss she made, and that pretty much kept me entertained until his bandmates showed.

The drummer, Lisa, had hair in such an impossible shade of powder blue that I thought I was hallucinating. That was it though. No nose ring, no spiked collar. Just blue hair, in pigtails. No makeup either, she told me later that she didn't do makeup before coffee. She hadn't even finished the word coffee before Noel's Mom—Mary was her name, popped up with a cup for her.

"Oh my gosh, Mary," Lisa said, as the woman put a plate of cookies in front of her. "Sit down! I could've gotten my own coffee."

"Eh," Mary said, flapping a hand.

The lead guitar, Mikey, apparently did do makeup on Saturday mornings, however. Unless he'd slept in it. But at least his clothes seemed fresh. Then there was Jeff, the bass player, in his wifebeater. His arms were like my thighs and I think he wanted everyone to know it. He's the one who finally got Mary to sit down. I think he had a little crush on her. It was like Mrs. Cunningham and the Fonz.

"How about I get you some coffee, Mary?" he asked.

"I've had three cups already honey," she said. "I'm driving to the mall today, not flying."

"Well, you're coffee's so good, I thought you'd want more," Jeff said.

"And might I add, that's a lovely dress you have on, Mrs. Cleaver," Mary said.

"Who?" Jeff asked. She picked up a potholder and hit him with it.

"Trying to say I'm old, are you?" She tried to take his coffee away. "Like you don't watch Nick at Nite in that living room over there all the time."

This was perfect. I needed it so badly after the night before and a morning where I didn't even step out of my room until I saw Derek leave with his guitar case. I think practice was at Ralph's that day, but it's not like I could have asked or anything. I was in no hurry. I would have been happy to sit there in the Covington's kitchen all day, watching everybody. But all too soon, Mary Covington took off to do her errands with a "Don't break anything, ya monkeys" as her farewell, and Noel got up and opened the door that led to their basement.

"I guess this is a good time to ask," I said. "Whether you want me to audition a capella or with you guys."

"Audition?" Lisa said.

"You were serious about that?" Noel said, grinning at me.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"You're so cute," Noel said, pinching my cheek. "Audition!"

"What, then," I asked. "Do you just pick people up off the street?"

"Pretty much," Mikey said. "Standards are for amateurs."

"I'm honored, then," I said.

"As well you should be," Noel said.

"We all went to your play and heard the two of you singing and that's all we really need," Lisa said.

"And I dared them to say yes," Noel said. "So you're in if you wanna be."

"Kay," I said. What else was there to say?

Then I thought of something.

"So what's the name of this band?"

"Funny you should mention that," Noel said. "It's been kind of a bone of contention for a while."

"I voted for 'Bone of Contention,' actually," Jeff said.

"Sounds dirty when you say it," Lisa said.

"And that would've been the name of our first album: 'Sounds dirty when you say it!' " Jeff said.

"I wanted to be 'Sir Noel and the Mateys' " Mikey said. Noel did the middle finger head scratch.

"What did you end up with?" I asked.

"I'm saying," Noel said. "It was a long process, especially after I found out that we couldn't use The Dave Matthews Band."

"Yeah, 'cause it was taken," I said. One must ride stuff like this out. Can't stop Noel from beating around the bush. "So?"

"It's a surprise," he said. I groaned.

He actually put his hands over my eyes and led me down the stairs to his basement. We got down there and there was nothing to see. A few mic stands, a drum kit with a sheet over it, chairs, a couch. Big whoop, I thought.

"That was anticlimactic," Noel said. "Forgot about the sheet." He walked over to the drum kit and pulled the sheet off with a flourish and an accidental cymbal clash.

Stenciled onto the bass drum were the words "Arrogant Chicken."


	5. Chapter 5

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Five

Part Eight: Casey:

Based on what they told me that first practice, it seems like Arrogant Chicken had been together officially for a couple of months at least. Lisa and Jeff had known Noel forever and had the embarrassing stories to prove it. They told me something about having dared him to go up to random people at the mall, pretending to know them, just to see if they'd admit that they'd never seen him before.

"It backfired," Noel said. "I walked right smack into a religious pampleteer who wouldn't let me go for half an hour."

"That was the best part of it," Lisa said. "He came home with a stack this big." She held her thumb and forefinger as far apart as they could go.

"Ooh," Lisa said. "Do you wanna see a picture of Noel in the bathtub when he was three? His Mom told me where she keeps em!"

"Coincidentally, that was the last time he had a bath," Jeff said.

"Explains a lot doesn't it?" Mikey said. "When I moved here, they told me some stuff that would curl your hair. I'm sure you will hear it all, though."

"Moving right along," Noel said, cutting off this line of conversation. He gestured at the couch and I sat down.

Noel walked over to the microphone stand and picked up an acoustic guitar. Then he winked at me and started to sing "Cry" a capella and then he started to play the guitar, and everyone else started up so gradually that my goosebumps never really went down.

I couldn't help but notice that when Noel had something to do with his hands, like playing a guitar or just grabbing the mic stand, he transformed completely. He tended to be a little awkward otherwise.

I thought to myself, _Noel Covington is a rock god._ Well, okay, he wasn't one yet, but the seeds were there. I was completely convinced that it was only a matter of time until he was surrounded by girls. Those eyes. I've never had that much wattage directed at me. I couldn't believe the amount of charisma he managed to work up. Then the song ended and he was goofy Noel again.

"Sorry there were no 'na na nas' in it, but you can't have everything," he said.

"Never had you pegged as a Faith Hill fan," I said.

Noel looked at me the way Derek looks at me when I say "You can watch hockey anytime; _Desperate Housewives_ is on."

"Okay," Noel said. "_First_ of all, Faith Hill _covered_ that song. It is an _Angie Aparo_ song. Nothing against Faith Hill. She did okay, but the original just _kills_ you."

"Noel's a music geek," Mikey said. "You should've been warned."

"I'm a little scared," I said.

"You should be," Noel said, one eyebrow up.

Then it was right back to business. Noel handed me a list of stuff that they've been playing. He asked me to pick one I knew to start with.

"And if you can think of any we should learn, don't be shy, but for now..." he gestured to the list.

There were about twenty songs on that list. Twenty songs they could just launch into at any time. That almost rendered me speechless. I wasn't sure Derek could even _name_ twenty songs.

That was nasty of me; it's a bad habit. And even thinking about Derek that day made me feel guilty so I had to push all thoughts of him away. I picked a song almost blindly.

It was "Time After Time."

"Classic," Noel said. Then he held out a hand like "after you," and I took his place at the microphone.

He leaned in to share the mic when the chorus came, but mainly concentrated on his guitar and let me have most of the song. I actually thought it would be cool to have a real duet going, but it didn't happen that day. I made a mental note to bug him about it.

After we were done with that one, Jeff said, "I like this one. Can we keep her?"

I laughed.

"Can we keep you?" Noel said to me.

"If you promise to feed me and take me for a walk once in a while," I said.

"Speaking of which," Lisa said. "Can we go get some kibble?"

Part Nine: Sam:

"Know what?" Ralph said, looking over the list of songs Derek submitted. "I think that Derek's still in a bad mood. Whatcha think, Schlep?"

"I'd say it looks that way," Sheldon said. "The Smiths, Linkin Park, The Cure..._Creed_?"

"You guys know that I'm sitting right here," Derek said.

"Uh-huh," Ralph said.

"So why are you talking about me like I'm in the bathroom or something?" Derek asked.

"'Cause I like it when your face gets all red," Ralph said.

That got Derek to laugh. Finally. We were starting to run out of material.

"I do have a question, though, Derek," Sheldon said.

"What?"

"Who exactly do you think is going to sing 'My Own Prison'?" Sheldon asked.

"Are you making fun of me, Schelp?"

"Nope," Sheldon said, even though his mouth was starting to twitch. "It's a legitimate question."

"Okay," Derek said, taking the list back. "So maybe I wasn't thinking straight last night."

"What put you in such a Morrissey kind of mood?" Sheldon said. I couldn't believe he didn't know.

"Casey," Ralph and I said together.

"Wait," Sheldon said. "You're _still_ pissed about yesterday? You guys do stuff like that to each other all the time."

"Um, no," Derek said. "We do not. At least _I_ don't."

"Come again?" Sheldon said.

"_She_ joined another band," Derek said. "With Noel Covington."

"Ouch," I said. I remembered the guy.

"Who?" Ralph said.

"He was in that play with Casey and Derek?" I said. "He had the lead." _And he's in love with Casey_, I thought. Noel had the second biggest and most obvious crush on Casey in the known world.

"You were in a play, Derek?" Ralph asked. Derek glared at him.

"okay, okay, so she went off with some drama geek," Ralph said. "Hell with her."

"That's what I said," Derek said.

"Yep," Sheldon said. "You've moved on. Hence the Creed."

"Okay," Derek said. "As subtle as you're being, Schlepper, I think I get the hint. You guys hate everything I picked."

"Didn't say that," Sheldon said. "It's just that that list of songs all in a row like that made me wonder if we needed to hide all sharp objects and pharmaceuticals."

"But what do you _really_ think?" Derek asked.

I bit my lip. _Oh God, here it comes_, I thought.

Sheldon paused before he opened his mouth again. That was unlike him. "I like 'Shadow of the Day' and 'Just Like Heaven.'"

I think I had a pretty good idea of what he'd wanted to say. Even though Sheldon tended to blurt out whatever popped into his little head, he had sense enough to keep it to himself this time. I gave him a look that I hoped showed how impressed I was.

"And when Em gets here, _maybe_ she'll okay the Evanescence, but I can't make any promises."

I for one, hoped Emily showed up with a bunch of perky stuff, just to offset all this emo. Meanwhile Sheldon's list had some stuff none of us had ever heard of, but once he sang some of it for us, Derek lit right up. I was hoping that that meant he'd forgotten all about Casey's defection, but—

"Eat your heart out, Covington," he said. He'd started to discuss chord progressions with Sheldon when Emily finally got there.

She started to apologize, for being late, I guessed, when she heard the song Sheldon was trying to teach Derek. Both had their guitars in hand and Sheldon startled when Emily leaned over him and kissed the top of his head.

"You talked him into playing Jeff Buckley?" Emily said. She sighed and reached into her pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill and handing it to Sheldon.

"So you've heard this song before?" Derek said.

"Yeah, it's 'Last Goodbye,'" Emily said. "You know Jeff Buckley. He sang 'Hallelujah.'" She sang a line or two to demonstrate and we all recognized it.

I put both songs down on the list of possibilities.

Emily and Sheldon were shaping up to be exactly what we needed. Derek got so involved in learning the handful of songs we all suggested that he had to be reminded about lunch. That in itself had never happened before, but that coupled with Derek taking suggestions and instruction from other people? Never thought I'd see the day.

All told, we were at it for the better part of the day, but it felt like nothing.

Afterward, my mom called my cell and asked if I could pick up some Chinese for dinner. There was a car parked on the street in front of the place and in it I could see a very familiar head ducking down to hide. I walked over and knocked on the window.

"It's only me, Casey," I said. "I come in peace. No Derek to be seen."

"How mad is he?"

"Pretty mad," I said.

"Didn't cool off at _all_?"

I shook my head.

"What am I gonna do?" she asked.

"For starters, I'd say try keeping a low profile for a little bit."

"Why," she said. "Is he planning something?"

"Not that I know of," I said.

"Would you tell me if he were?" she said. "You're his best friend! Oh my God, Sam what the hell am I gonna do? I want to fix it, and I just can't and now he really hates me—"

I was impressed. I didn't think that she would've figured it out so soon. She's one of my best friends so I feel no guilt for saying it—she usually couldn't see past her own nose.

"He doesn't hate you, Case," I said. "He's really mad, though."

"Can't you give me a heads up?" Casey said. "Like if he were going to put olive oil in my shampoo again?"

"Casey, I'm _your_ friend, too, and I gotta tell you—this is miles past the pranking stage," I said.

"I was afraid of that," Casey said. "I'm going to be the relative that he doesn't talk about."

_Oh, if only,_ I thought. _Then_ _I'd have some peace and quiet_. "Have you tried just apologizing?" I said.

"I'm afraid to," she said. "I can't even make eye contact."

This was so much worse than I thought it was. It made me nervous.

"Maybe you should try that, then panic if it doesn't work," I said.

"Maybe," Casey agreed. "If I start planning one now, I can have it ready by tonight."

_She plans out everything doesn't she?_ I thought. That made me think of something else. "Casey," I said. "Did you really send Sheldon a three-page apology email last night?"

"He told you about it?" she said. "Did he say whether he forgives me?"

"No he didn't say one way or the other," I said. "But I really wouldn't stress about Shel. He's good people."

"And Derek—"

"Is pissed-off people," I said. "He's incapable of staying mad for too long, though."

"How long is too long?" she asked. Good question. But Noel came out of the restaurant with their food and effectively stopped me from having to think of an answer.

He was friendly enough, but I knew it was my cue to beat it, so I went inside to order dinner.

Part Ten: Edwin:

I think all of us breathed a sigh of relief when Casey called Nora to tell her that she was going to eat with Noel. We were all expecting a Chernobyl-level meltdown out of Derek. Actually, when I thought about it, I realized that one of them was always going nuclear on us. You never knew when it was safe to exit the games closet.

That's where Lizzie and I ended up when we heard Derek pull into the driveway. We needed to figure this mess out.

"So the first step is to figure out how this is different from any other fight they've had," I said. Lizzie looked at me the way she always does, like I was so immensely stupid that she was surprised I was house trained.

"Let's see," she said. "There was the public humiliation—"

"You call Sam, Ralph and Sheldon public?"

"And Emily. It was a small group, but still embarrassing enough," she said. "Then she announces that she's joining a band with _Noel_, who has the hots for her."

"He does?" I asked. Then I thought about it. "Crap, he does, doesn't he?"

"Yes, Edwin," she said, nodding like I was a good dog, indeed. "He _does_."

"Poor guy," I said. Lizzie nodded.

"He doesn't have a chance," she said. "But Derek doesn't know that. Meanwhile, Noel can really sing, and he's cute, and Derek probably feels like he's screwed."

"And Casey holds the screwdriver?" I asked.

"Doesn't she always?" Lizzie asked.

Nora called us down for dinner.

Derek was already at the table with Marti. She was chatttering away. I think she might've been making up a story on the spot to make him laugh. She has a real talent for that type of thing. She had him smiling at least. The story had something to do with baking pies for aliens and whether they'd like cheese on their apple pie, or maybe they like rhubarb.

"I can't think of anyone else who does, so maybe it's for aliens," she said. "So they can have their own thing when they visit."

She is going to turn out to be like Albert Einstein, or Jim Henson, or someone cool like that. I could tell that Derek saw it, too. He always listened when she came up with that stuff.

"And then there's the whole problem of forks and stuff," Marti said. "They might have different customs and think we're all weird with our forks and our chopsticks..."

"Like if they have tentacles," Derek said. "I get it."

"Yeah, would it be rude or what?" Marti said. "Eat your chili, Smerek."

Nora suppressed a laugh at the randomness of that. Also Marti gestured at Derek's bowl with a cracker and the whole thing was so Nora-like that it was completely hilarious.

"So you had band practice today, Derek?" Nora tried.

"Yep."

"How'd it go?" Dad asked.

"'Kay."

"Could you maybe elaborate?"

"Nope."

"How's Sheldon and Emily working out?" Dad asked. He wouldn't give up.

"Good," Derek said.

"Well," Nora said. Like this was really the time to correct his grammar.

"Well," Derek said. "So can I be excused?"

"Nope, clean your plate," Marti said. I pictured a big control room with all kinds of gauges going into the danger zone and a bunch of lights blinking red.

"How bout I wrap it up for later, huh, Smarti?" Derek said. Dad nodded to show it was okay with him if it was okay with Smarti.

"Okay," Marti said. "But you have to eat it, though. You can't throw it away."

"No problem," Derek said. He got up and we could see him wrapping his bowl in plastic wrap and putting it into the fridge where it would undoubtedly sprout white fur. Then he went upstairs before Casey could get home.

When Casey finally did get home, she had a gift bag in her hand. Looked like she was hoping to make peace. I was dying to find out what she was planning.


	6. Chapter 6

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer:I do not own _Life With Derek_, or any of the stuff I reference here like YouTube, _That 70s Show,_ (though I'd like to own Eric Foreman) or _Catcher in the Rye_.

Chapter Six

Part Eleven: Derek.

I woke up around 11:00 that Sunday and I debated turning around and going back to sleep but I smelled food. So I went downstairs and saw who was cooking and decided I wanted cereal instead. I cannot be bought with pancakes. Even if the smell of them was driving me crazy. I thanked God that there wasn't any bacon.

"Derek," Casey said.

I poked my head into the fridge looking for the milk.

"Derek," she repeated.

I looked at her and saw that the milk was by her elbow so I grabbed it, poured some into my corn flakes, and put it back where I found it.

"Derek, come on," she said. "Talk to me."

"That's burning," I said, pointing at the frying pan.

"Dammit!," she said. I took the opportunity to make my exit. I was taking my cereal upstairs when I heard her yelp. She must have been using the old potholder and burned her hand. I stopped and put my bowl down, but Lizzie got up from the couch to check on her. I waited until she dragged Casey into the living room with some frozen peas on her hand.

"Liz, it's okay," Casey said. "I just used the crappy potholder." Her eyes were streaming, but she didn't look badly hurt. She sat down with Lizzie and Edwin, so I picked up my breakfast and continued on my way upstairs.

"Edwin," I heard Casey say, "why don't you finish the pancakes?"

In my room, I sat on the bed, grabbed the remote and hit the stereo. Emily loaned me her Jeff Buckley CD and it was going to be my mission to be able to play most of it before I died. Listening to it, I was actually starting to enjoy myself a little when I saw a little shopping bag, the kind you get if you're bad at gift-wrapping, on my dresser.

She was pulling out the big guns.

I thought it best not to look at what was in it, but I couldn't help peek at the tag on the handle. It said, _Peace Offering? _In Casey's big, loopy handwriting.

_Do not look in the bag_, I thought. _By all that is right and holy in the world do not even think of looking in that bag because if you do, you're screwed. _

But I wanted to look in the bag. The bag called my name. It knew I was powerless before it.

I picked it up and decided to plop it onto Casey's bed before she had a chance to go upstairs. But I ran into Edwin.

"Not cool," he said.

"Don't care," I said.

"She's crying her head off downstairs, you know," Edwin said.

"So I'm up here," I said. "And anyway, ever since she found out how I am with people crying, she's been using it against me. She can turn it on and off like a faucet."

"Okay, I don't even know where to start to explain what a shitty thing that is to say," Edwin said.

"But it's true," I said.

"Derek," he said. He shook his head like he was disappointed in me. "You've made her crawl enough. You can let her off the hook now."

"I'm not trying to make anyone crawl," I said. "I don't want to see her or talk to her. She fucked me over royally and no amount of pancakes or whatever the hell's in this bag is gonna make me less pissed off."

"So because _your_ nose is out of joint, the rest of us have to suffer," Edwin said. "As usual, it's all about you. The both of you." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me. Usually, I'd think that a statement like that merited walking off in a huff, but Edwin wasn't going anywhere.

"What do you want me to say to that, Edwin?" I said. "I didn't ask anyone to pay attention to what was going on. I never brought it up. All_ I_ did was sit at the dinner table quietly. People've been telling me to shut up for so many damn years, but the second I do, you can't stand it, can you?"

"So you're gonna keep this up till she leaves for college, or something?" Edwin said.

"Do you see a crystal ball laying around here?" I asked. "I don't even know what's for dinner tonight."

"Cut the crap, Derek," Edwin said. "I'm getting really tired of walking on eggshells around you. The things you do affect everybody else, and you're just too dense to figure that out. Or too self-involved to care. But you need to get your ass downstairs and hash it out with Casey and you need to do it before Dad, Nora and Marti get home."

"Or what?" I said.

That did it. He turned around and left me standing there.

"Such an _ass_hole," he said, as he went to his room. On a typical day, he called me an asshole two or three times, but he meant it this time.

I started the CD over again and turned it up a little. Edwin didn't get it, but I knew that it was best that I just kept to myself for a little bit.

Part Twelve: Lizzie.

Casey cried for a while, so I tried to play supportive sister. I stayed on the couch and hugged her for a while, until the hiccups started to taper off. I got up to get her some water when I heard Edwin call Derek an asshole and Derek's music get louder. Casey and I looked up when we heard stomping overhead.

Edwin came downstairs, stuffing his wallet into his pocket. "I'm going for a walk," he said. "You with me, Liz?"

Oh God how I wanted out of the house. "Um, I should really—"

"Go ahead Lizzie, it's okay," Casey said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "Go."

So we beat it out of there before she had a chance to change her mind. The both of us tried to button our jackets while running at top speed. We didn't want to be within earshot in case she called us back.

"I think we need a personal day," Edwin said. "Or a personal couple hours as the case may be."

"What'd you have in mind?"

"We can watch the grass grow, I don't care," Edwin said. "I just needed to get out, 'cause those two idiots will keep it up until the end of the world."

I couldn't argue with that. "Let's see if anyone's at the park," I said.

We got there and found Jamie, Teddy and Molly Moscovitz and a couple of other kids, so we got to play a little basketball and just hang out for a while. I think it was just what we needed, even though it seemed like no one told Edwin that there's no tackling in basketball. He kept pouncing on me, and then he'd let me flip him. He seemed to enjoy landing flat on his back on the patch of grass behind the basketball court. Seemed to relieve his stress somehow. I've learned not to ask. But it put the smile back on his face, and mine too, I guess, so that was good. Then he paid for hot chocolate, and that was even better.

"Will the two of you just get it on so I can sell tickets already?" Teddy said. Then I don't know what happened, but somehow my chocolate ended up all down the front of his jeans. He's lucky I didn't pull his belt away so I could dump it directly _in_to his pants. Jamie, for some reason left in all the confusion, so when I looked up, wondering why I didn't hear that screamy laugh of his, he was gone.

"Napkin?" Edwin said, handing Teddy a handful. Teddy stomped off threatening Edwin's and my life and then the two of us were alone.

"Here," Edwin said, trying to hand me his chocolate. "That was awesome."

"I'm good," I said. "You drink it."

But I ended up taking a couple of sips. So that was cool. We sat there for a while enjoying the weather because it was sure to turn really cold any day and we wouldn't be able to hang out over here until April probably.

Then, unfortunately, Edwin looked at his watch and realized it was 4:00 and we probably needed to help with dinner. Plus I had about forty pages of _Catcher in the Rye_ that I needed to read by the next day. Like my life wasn't _Catcher in the Rye_.

I went to the bus stop. Edwin looked at me like I was crazy.

"You in some kind of hurry?" he asked.

"Guess not," I said.

So we walked the ten blocks back home. When we got there, Mom and George were sitting at the table, drinking coffee, laughing about something. They looked up when they saw the two of us come in.

"You're all sweaty," Mom said. "What'd you guys do?"

Edwin told her, leaving out the part about the hot chocolate and Teddy's pants.

"This was a perfect basketball day," George said. "Nobody wants to play after dinner, do they?"

We gave him a maybe. Edwin kept looking up at the ceiling like he expected it to cave in. He was dying to ask, I could tell. So could Mom.

"They're quiet," Mom said. "I think that's all we can ask for."

"How long do you think they can keep this up?"

"The quiet?" George asked. "Forever would be nice." Mom gave him a dirty look.

"Kidding," he said. "This isn't the type of thing we can stick our noses into." Mom nodded.

"Why not?" Edwin asked.

"I've tried to order them to get along before," George said. "And that was over little stuff. This, for reasons I've yet to figure out, isn't so little. And they're not fighting the way they usually do. Makes me almost miss their usual bickering, actually. But no, Derek is really freezing her out, and if we order him to stop, well you can imagine how much worse it'll be."

"We have to ride it out," Mom said.

"Besides," George said. "The two of them really need to learn that the house doesn't revolve around them."

"Doesn't it?" Edwin said.

George smirked. "Just for that, wiseass, you're doing the dishes."

"And that's unusual, how?" Edwin said. George grabbed the first thing he could, in this case, that potholder that Casey burned herself on, and smacked Edwin's arm with it.

"Don't the two of you have homework?" George said.

Later on, I was finishing up an essay for English and I heard all hell break loose.

Casey tried barging into Derek's room and telling him that she wasn't leaving till they had a conversation. Apparently she's new here.

Derek said something back to her, probably some version of "get lost or else." She said "Or else what," so I must've hit the nail right on the head.

"What're you gonna do, hit me?" she said. That's when I put my homework away and went into the hallway. Edwin was sitting on his steps.

"Derek," she said, sounding a little scared. Then she yelped.

"Crap," Edwin said, moving toward the door.

But then the door opened and Derek, who had Casey over his shoulder, put her down gently in front of her door. Then he turned around and went back into his room, slamming and _locking_ his door without another word.

So there's this video that I saw on YouTube that shows this cat. It's in a shelter or a vet's office, I'm not sure. But its ears are flat against its head and it is yelling for all it's worth. Screaming like it's being murdered. That was Casey. She started to punctuate everything she said to him with a kick to his door.

"I'm sorry! (kick) How many times do I have to freaking (kick) apologize to you? (kick) What do you want me to do? (kick) Tell me and I'll do it (kick)."

We all waited to see if he'd open the door. He didn't. Casey sank to the floor in front of her own room. She sat half in and half out of her room and started crying again. I went over and put a hand on her shoulder but she shook me off.

"Lizzie," Edwin said, cocking his head toward another door. It was Marti's. I didn't even have to ask why. He opened her door and found her sitting on her bed, the tears running down her face. She never could stand fighting.

"Smaaarti," he sing-songed. "Come on, Smarti." He put his arms around her. "Smarti sandwich." He beckoned to me to get on her other side and we did a little group hug.

"Why're you getting all upset over those two dumbasses?" The word dumbass never failed to crack her up, and even now she managed a little giggle. She loved to watch reruns of _That 70s Show, _especially when Red called someone a dumbass, and Edwin, knowing that, injected a little more gusto into the word.

But it only lasted for a second because we could all still hear Casey. I got up for a second and turned on her radio. Fall Out Boy filled the room. I wondered who let her listen to Fall Out Boy, but that was a question for another day.

"Smarti, look at me," Edwin said. "That's the worst of it, okay? It'll be over soon. Just ride it out." It sounded like the type of thing you said to someone as you held their hair back while they puked. It also sounded so much like George that I had to smile.

"What?" Edwin said.

"Nothing, Daddy," I said. Marti giggled again.

"Oh, so you think it's funny too, huh?"

"Yeah, 'cause you sounded just like Daddy," Marti said.

"Well just for that, you get to do the dishes for me," he said.

"Nice try," Marti said.

Then Edwin made a huge mistake. "So what do you wanna do now, Smarti?"

The three of us ended up braiding _Barbie® _hair until we got called down for dinner.

Dinner was pretty relaxing, actually. Neither drama queen came downstairs and we had our cold chicken sandwiches in peace.

"I suppose I have to make up trays, now?" I said, after we were finished.

"Nope," Mom said. "This is not a hotel. They want food, they have to come get it."

George who had gone out to the car for something, came back in and said: "It's too cold for basketball. Who wants to beat me at _Grand Theft Auto_?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Edwin said. Edwin trounced him, and teased him about how his reflexes weren't what they used to be.

"Go to your room!" George said. We laughed.

"No seriously, it's like ten o'clock, you have school tomorrow."

On the way up, Edwin poked his head into Marti's room to see if she was asleep. She wasn't. So we came in for a second.

"And what are you still doing up, young lady?" he said. She giggled.

"Go to sleep," he said, trying to look strict.

"'Night, Smarti," I said.

"And don't let the bedbugs put their foot in your ass," Edwin said. 


	7. Chapter 7

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I own no part of _LWD_ nor do I own Harry Potter, though I reference it hugely.

Chapter Seven

Part Thirteen: Emily

First off, I told Derek that I wasn't taking a side in any of this mess that he and Casey had going. It seemed like everyone was with me, even Ralph who barely knew Casey from a hole in the wall. Derek said that that was fine with him. That he _wanted_ us to stay out of it. (Like that'll happen.) In Derek-ese it could mean anything in the world, so I wasn't sure if I could believe him.

"I say believe him," Sheldon said as we left Ralph's on Saturday. "I'm too tired for subtext."

That was good enough for me.

I went looking for Casey on Monday because I hadn't heard from her all weekend. I found her by her locker, head down, like she was all _alloooone_ in the world. She is _so_ lucky we're best friends.

"You didn't call me," I said, hoping she'd take that to mean all was cool with me if it was cool with her.

"Didn't think you'd want me to," she said.

"More like you didn't want me to yell at you," I said. "But by the looks of you, you've had enough grief."

"So you still want to talk to me?" she said.

"Duh," I said. "Otherwise I wouldn't waste my time yelling would I?" That called for a hug, so we hugged.

"So?" I said. "I heard you have news."

"Um," Casey said.

"Come on, Casey," I said. "I know and you know and you know I know, and I can go on like this all day if you want me to."

"Please don't," Casey said, starting to smile.

"So, Noel Covington?" I said.

"What about him?" Casey said.

"Did you join his band or what?"

"Yeah," Casey said. "So Derek told you?"

"Nope, Sheldon did," I said. "I was late to practice. Missed the rant."

"About Sheldon," she began.

"You rang?" Sheldon said. He can always be counted on for this type of thing. It's a quirk. Casey spun around and he startled.

"Teach me how to do that?" he said, laughing. "I'd totally fall down." He did a little spin then pretended to wobble on his feet a little. I went over and slid an arm around him.

"Sheldon," Casey said. "Be serious, okay?" She looked him in the eye. It made him nervous and twitchy. I rubbed my hand up and down his back.

"Okay," he said.

"I have been so horrible to you."

He rolled his eyes. "Forget it," he said.

"No!" Casey said. "Uh-uh, stop acting like it's no big deal."

"It isn't," he said. He was really uncomfortable with this. He was, like, ten seconds away from walking off, probably face first into an open locker.

"Sheldon," she said.

"You already apologized to me," Sheldon said. "Very extensively. One might say, longwindedly. No need to do it again. I mean who are you, Dobby? You gonna slam your hand in your locker? 'Bad Casey' 'Baaad Casey'?" He was trying so damn hard to get her to smile, but he was getting absolutely nowhere. "Should I _order_ you to stop prostrating yourself? Is that the right word Em? Prostrating? Or am I being gross again?"

"S'okay, I think," I said.

"Do you forgive me though?" Casey said.

He groaned. "Yes, Casey. I forgive you. Okay?"

She hugged him. Maybe hugged was an understatement. She mauled him. Damn good thing I knew she wasn't interested in him. "Sorry I'm being so mushy," she said. "I'm just so relieved."

"I am _King_ of the Mush," Sheldon said. "My people call it _schmaltz_, but my point is: no worries. But we should probably talk later?" He looked at me for confirmation. I nodded.

The warning bell rang.

"Okay," Casey said.

"And I hope you realize I'm calling you Dobby from now on," Sheldon called after her.

Part Fourteen: Sam.

There was a whole lotta strategizing going on that Monday. I knew Emily was gonna twist Sheldon's arm to help her out. Not that Sheldon needed his arm twisted. He loved being in the middle of this. But they had their part of the plan, which I think had mostly to do with having a long and painful talk with Casey. I wished them luck.

It was Ralph's and my job to keep Derek mostly distracted. It was fun at first, but I ran out of ideas somewhere around third period and by lunch I was ready to pull out some knock-knock jokes.

I was dying for a progress report. Before study hall, while Derek was in the bathroom, Emily pulled me aside and told me just enough to really drive me nuts. But then for lunch, she sent Sheldon to us while she stayed with Casey. While Derek stuffed his face, I grilled poor Sheldon. And I think under the circumstances we were both pretty stealth about it.

"So, about Dobby," I said.

Sheldon gave me _such_ a look. I'm surprised I'm still alive. "You know Dobby?"he asked.

"We've been introduced." Emily gave me the idea, blame her. But when this is all over, Casey will never live it down.

"Dobby's doing okay," Sheldon said.

"Stopped doing the smashing-hands-in-the-locker thing?"

"Finally," Sheldon said. "It was kinda gruesome. Hard to look at."

"It_ is_ a bad habit," I said.

"How's Kreacher doing?" Sheldon said. That was right off the top of the boy's head. I had my mouth full and almost choked on my sandwich. Ralph laughed openly. I looked over to check on Derek 'cause I was sure he was going to know something was up, but he was to busy talking to a girl. Her name might have been Maria or Marisol. Or Melissa. Started with an M, anyway.

"_Kreacher_?" I said. I thought fast. "Kreacher is in denial of his true master."

"Poor, sad elf, I knew it was something like that," Sheldon said. "The master abused her power, though."

"Is the master sorry?"

"Duh,"Sheldon said. "Hence all the crying. Okay, know what? We need to drop this crap. It's getting too hard to do. I'm sleep deprived."

"And I need more _soda_," I said, nodding toward the soda machines.

"And I need...a thing," Sheldon said. I laughed.

"That's the best you could come up with after all that Dobby and Kreacher stuff?" Ralph said.

"Yeah," Sheldon said. "Like I said: I'm tired. You staying, Ralph?"

"Yeah," he sighed. I think he was a little annoyed to be the lookout. "Did I tell you guys you suck?"

"Repeatedly," I said.

We got to the soda machines and I pretended to hunt for change in my pockets while we tried to figure out what we knew so far.

"To sum up: He won't talk to her," Sheldon said.

"He won't _mention_ her," I said, pulling out some nickels and pennies and pretending to count them.

"Has he ever done anything like this before?"

"Nope," I said. "This is new."

"But she really hurt him the other day. Otherwise there'd be no reason for him to overreact the way he is. Does it feel like she _left_ him for Noel, or am I nuts?"

"Wait..._what_?" I said. I dropped some change. _What kind of weird mind-reader kid is this?_ I thought.

"You didn't get that?" Sheldon said.

"Yeah," I said, from the floor. "_I_ did. How did _you_?"

"Gee, dunno," Sheldon said, poking through his own pockets. "I'm...smart?"

"Shel, you know I don't mean it like—"

"Relax, Sam," he said. "I'm messing with you. People seem to be humor challenged today. Anyway, _you_ get it, _I _get it, pretty much everyone gets it except Casey. And probably Noel."

Sheldon cleared his throat, smiled, and nodded at something I couldn't see. I turned around and saw Casey and Emily's table. Noel was straddling a chair between them and his eyes were glued to Casey. I remembered that look. Hell, _I_ gave her that look not too long ago. Casey herself was talking a blue streak, still looking upset and weepy (another look I know well), and not noticing the way Noel was looking at her at all.

"Poor bastard," Sheldon said.

"So we're getting nowhere," I said.

"Absolutely nowhere," he said. "Let me see what they're doing."

Part Fifteen: Casey.

I came to a decision when I was supposed to be paying attention in History. It was going to make things worse in the short run, but it seemed like the only way to even begin to clean up the mess I'd made. I ran it by Emily on the way to lunch, and not surprisingly she didn't approve, but she didn't have any other ideas, so she said she'd go along.

I grabbed a table in the cafeteria and picked at my PB&J while I waited for Em to buy her lunch. She ran into Noel on the lunch line and dragged him over to me, saving me the trouble of having to find him later.

I sat Noel down and told him I was quitting the band. Then I told him why I was quitting. I cried again. He put a hand on my arm and told me everything would be okay. I had time to wonder who taught him to say all the right things when he said: "Four o'clock."

"Huh?"

"Practice," he said. "Four o'clock. And just to let you know? Lisa is a_ total_ slave driver. Hates it when people are late. Frankly I'm a little scared of her."

"Did you not hear any of what I just said?"

"I heard you," he said. "And I probably should have warned you before, but Arrogant Chicken? It's a little like the mafia. There's no escape. You're stuck. It's best not to fight it. Just let your mind go blank. That's what _I_ do."

Emily laughed.

"How is this funny, Em?"

"Yeah, _Em_," Noel said. "How is this funny? It's not _nice_ to mock people's personal philosophies, ya know?"

"You're awesome," she said.

"Yes I am," he said.

"Okay, I admit it, you're awesome," I said. "Especially for trying not to take no for an answer, but I really do have to quit. Most of my family isn't talking to me because I accidentally started World War Three in my house. If there's going to be any peace, I have to do this."

"I respect that," Noel said, soberly. "I get it. You're being muh-mmm-_mature_," he stuttered, as if the word caused him pain. Reminded me of Derek. I wanted to cry again.

"Quit messing around," I said. "I'm serious."

"Are you _ever_ not serious?" Sheldon said. I looked up, startled. I will always wonder how he pops up out of nowhere like that.

"Not lately," I said.

"So what's going on?" Sheldon asked.

Emily filled him in, telling him about my plan and Noel's reaction to it.

"And now she's gonna tell me all about how I need to fire her ass right now, even though I don't pay her," Noel said.

"There will be more about what a terrible person she is," Emily teased.

"Well she is," Sheldon deadpanned. He leaned in close to Noel and stage-whispered "She removes mattress tags, I heard."

"No that's _true_," Emily said.

"And squeezes the toothpaste tube from the middle," Sheldon said.

"Badass," Noel said. He looked at his watch. "Anyway, the bell's about to ring, so I shall take my leave." He pecked me on the cheek, waved at Em and Sheldon.

"Four o'clock," he whispered in my ear.

"That went well," Sheldon chirped. I threw a napkin at him. "Hey! I thought you said you were being 'Nice Casey,' now."

I put my head on the table; then the bell rang.

Part Sixteen: Sam

While Sheldon was on reconnaissance, Emily texted me:

"Casey quitting band. Am stalling," her message read.

I texted back that she should keep it up and that I would handle Derek.

I had an idea.

"All they had was diet ginger ale," I said, coming back to the table.

"Hate it when that happens," Ralph said.

"Mmhhm," Derek said. "That's a nice touch."

"What?"

"The 'pretending to go get sodas so you could talk strategy' thing?"

"Is that what you did?" Ralph said. "Well I'm just appalled, is what I am."

"You're laying it on thick, Ralphie," Derek said.

"I wanted an iced tea," I said. "Is that a sin?"

"If you worked alone, you _might've_ fooled me," Derek said, arms crossed. "But _those two_," he gestured at Sheldon and Emily. "You may as well have taken out an ad in the paper."

I gave him my "worried" look. "Are you pissed?" I asked. I knew that he wasn't pissed.

"Nah," he said. "I knew you were gonna try something. Even though there was no way it would've worked."

I love it when Derek thinks he's on to me. It's so much fun.

"Could've worked," I said.

"You didn't stand a chance."

"If you say so," I said. I sat down and said nothing for about a minute.

"So aren't you gonna tell me?" Derek said.

"Tell you what?"

"Whatever message they have from Casey, blah blah blah," Derek said.

"She's probably gonna try to talk to you later," I said.

"Uh-huh," Derek said.

"After she's done quitting Noel's band, pretty much ensuring that he won't be talking to her either," I said. "I'm sure it'll ruin the guy's day."

"Dude, really?" Ralph said. "That sucks."

"And I'm supposed to care, because..."

"_You_ asked," I said.

"I have a natural curiosity," Derek said.

"Uh-huh," I said.

"Don't uh-huh me either," Derek said.

"'Kay," I said.

"Stop acting like you have the upper hand," Derek said.

"Who's acting?" I said.

He put his head down for a second, then, when his head came back up, he said: "Fff-fff—"

There were teachers within earshot and if he'd said what he'd wanted to say, well, there'd have been many many detentions.

"Fudge?" Ralph said.

"Fiddlesticks?" I said.

"One of those," Derek said. "Why is this chick so born to undo herself?"

"So you do care," Ralph said.

"Shut up," Derek said.

The bell rang.


	8. Chapter 8

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: As usual, I do not own _LWD_, am just borrowing. And also as usual, I make tons of references (_Godfather, Part III_, and _The Princess Bride_, etc.) and I own none of those either.

Chapter Eight.

Part Seventeen: Noel

Casey dropped the only bomb on me. Emily tried to warn me, but there just wasn't time to explain the ins and outs of the Caseyverse on the lunchline, apparently.

"All you need to know in the short run is to nod and smile and completely ignore what's she's about to say, okay?"

"Wait, what the—"I said.

"Nope," Emily said. "No time, just smile."

"_Smile_, I said." She elbowed me. "Casey! Look who I found!"

Then I heard all about the Derek/Casey limited police action going on and how Casey's surrender somehow entailed her quitting the band she'd been in for all of two days. Emily kicked me under the table, then gestured to her face where she had every tooth on display.

So I smiled and said all the right things, I think. Emily didn't kick me again at least. I beat it out of there before anything else could happen, though. Or so I thought.

Derek was waiting at my locker. My math book was in there, and my damn homework was folded up inside it, but I was seriously considering taking the zero on it before any more crazy got on me. But he saw me, so I couldn't make any kind of getaway.

"Sup, Derek, how ya doin? If you'd just shift over for a sec," I said, trying to gently steer him a few inches over to the left.

"Why," he said. "I'm not in your way, am I?"

I weighed my options. I was pretty sure that he wouldn't try to kick my ass in front of all these people. Plus, we were about the same size, so even though he was miles more coordinated than I was, maybe I'd get a couple shots in before he clobbered me. So decided to stand my ground, especially since I didn't actually _do_ anything to him.

"How bout you just let me get into my locker," I said.

He moved aside. I thanked him and plunged my hands into the locker, cursing my total lack of organization. God knew where the damn book was.

"I was just hoping to talk to you for a second before you go off," Derek said. "You seemed busy during lunch."

"Derek, listen," I began.

"I just wanted to find out if you'd let Casey back into your band if we got her to grovel," he said.

"Huh?"

"You heard me."

"Why?" I said. "What's in it for you?"

"_Nothing's_ in it for me," he said. "And frankly I'm _insulted_ that you'd think such a thing."

"Uh-huh," I said. "So what's in it for you?"

"The satisfaction of my good deed for the day," he said. He rolled his eyes, then said: "Listen, you might've figured out by now that Casey doesn't always know what she's doing, especially when she's upset about something, and since _I'm_ the one who upset her, I didn't want you caught in the crossfire."

"Really?" I said. "She said it was _her_ fault."

"She did?" Derek said. "She admitted it? Publicly?"

I nodded.

"Wow."

"And for the record, Emily already told me not to let her quit," I said, stuffing my book into my bag, beating back the tide of old test papers, and shutting my locker. "So I didn't."

I left him standing there with his mouth open.

I wondered, not for the first time, what I was getting myself into. I was starting to realize that I was really in for it. But I figured Casey was worth it.

Part Eighteen: Derek

This Noel character was okay. When I first met him, I think that I knew within thirty seconds that he was gaga over Casey. He wasn't subtle. Casey missed it completely. As usual. A bomb could go off inches from her nose and she might notice a breeze and wonder where it came from.

I liked the guy, actually. I wondered if I should just warn him off of her, save him some trouble, but I knew he wasn't going to believe me. Or care. Maybe, I thought, he'd even be tough enough to handle her. Max hadn't been up to the challenge, which was why he was about to get dumped, poor guy, but maybe Noel deserved his shot.

This line of reasoning was _completely_ unlike me, but I wasn't thinking straight. A house full of people not talking to you will do that every time. By Sunday night, even the fact that _I_ was the injured party really didn't seem to matter anymore. I just wanted people to stop thinking I was the kind of pig who _liked_ to see Casey cry. And cry she did. Constantly and at full volume. She should be an opera singer.

And incidentally, Dad made _me_ clean the scuff marks from her boots off of my door. I considered myself officially worn down. If I wanted to eat at the table that night, I needed to make peace.

Now it's against my religion to make the first move with stuff like this, so I chased Casey down, but made it look like I was avoiding her.

After the last bell rang, I hung out at my locker until I heard her heels clacking behind me. I looked up, saw her looking at me all desperate, and it was all I could do not to cave right then, but shut my locker and started to walk away.

"Derek, please don't run off," she said. "I can't run in these!"

I turned around and gave her the eyebrow.

"I'll take em off and run after you," she said. "Don't think I won't. And there's broken glass outside."

"Here's where you say it'll be all my fault if you get your feet all cut up," I said.

"I don't care," she said, unzipping one boot and hopping on the other. There weren't too many people still hanging around after the afternoon stampede, but couple of people still in the hallway stared at her for a second. One guy walked a little faster. The other one shrugged and continued on his way like this was just business as usual.

"Sit down, Casey," I said, pointing to the stairs.

"Why, so you can get a head start?" she said, now unzipping the other boot. "Don't think so."

"Drama queen," I said, as I sat down on the stairs. It took a second for her to realize that I wasn't going anywhere. I patted the step next to me.

"Are you sure?" she said, in that wavery-sheep voice of hers.

"Not entirely," I said.

But she sat down. "Derek," she said. "I am so sorry. I have never been sorrier in my life. I hope that you can believe that. I never meant to actually hurt you. Somehow in my twisted mind, I was just messing with you like I always do..."

I opened my mouth. She _put her hand _over it. She could've lost some fingers.

"It was wrong of me, and I want to make it up to you," she said. "I told Noel I was quitting the band, and I'll do anything else to make it up to you."

"What kind of a stupid thing to say is that?" I said, after I took her hand away from my mouth. "You'll do anything? Stand on your head."

Don'tcha know she stood up and looked like she was about to do it? Psycho.

"Sit down, Casey," I said.

"I mean it," she said. "I can't stand it that you're really mad at me, and worse than that I can't stand that I hurt you."

I wondered if maybe it wouldn't have been better never to speak to her again. At least I wouldn't want to kiss her so damn badly. I prayed for all I was worth that she'd go for Noel and do so immediately, so I could find somebody who wasn't her.

"Stop it, Casey," I said.

"Please, Derek," she said. "I'm trying to—"

"You talk too much," I said.

"Okay," she said. "I tried. I guess there's nothing in the book that says you have to forgive—"

"Casey," I said. "Why did you try to quit Noel's band?"

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean why? Because I thought it might help undo some of the damage—"

"By hurting another completely innocent schlub?" I asked.

"Well," she said. I think I stumped her. "I'll be groveling at his feet next. When he gets past the denial stage."

"Or you could just stay in his band," I said. "So that we can beat you guys' asses fair and square."

I grinned at her. She didn't know how to react.

"Now, you driving me home, or what?" I said.

"I didn't take the car," she said.

"I left it," I said.

"I didn't think I should take it," she said. "It's really _your_ car."

"Well, that's just brilliant," I said. "Now we're stuck on the bus!"

I looked at my watch. "And you better haul ass to Covington's house before he changes his mind," I said. "Now go. Go go go go go go go!"

I ran like hell in the other direction before she tried to hug me.

Part Nineteen: Casey.

Noel was leaning against the hood of a car that was idling at the bus stop. Derek was nowhere to be found so I guessed he must have snagged a ride.

"I can't believe you actually waited for me," I said.

"Told you. We own you now," he said. "Just when you think you're _out_, we pull ya back _in_."

"Thank you, Al Pacino," I said. Then I hugged him.

"Thanks for not listening to me," I said.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Did you say something?" I laughed.

"You can let go of me, now," I said.

"Huh?" he said. "Didn't catch that."

A mighty horn honk separated us. I looked to see Lisa behind the wheel of the little car. She smiled and waved.

"Ready?" he asked. It was a two-door, so he opened the door, folded the seat down and climbed into the backseat, leaving the front for me.

"Well, get your ass in the car, chica!" she said. "I don't have all day!"

I climbed in and shut the door.

"See? Scary," Noel said.

"Shut it!" she said. "Before I put you in the trunk again."

They were great together, I thought. But it was obvious that they weren't dating. At least not yet. I wondered if I could help with that. I mean, they'd known each other forever, and he was so easy with her. I think that people should be with whomever it is that makes them most comfortable. He could be himself with her. I was getting really excited at the prospect of hooking the two of them up.

On the way to Noel's house, Lisa cranked the radio and we all sang along. She had a really good voice, too.

"Why exactly did you guys need me again?" I asked.

"Because," Noel said. "We like you. And because she refuses to step out front."

"Nobody touches my drums but me," she said.

"Are there going to be any more surprises?" I asked. "Nobody leads a secret life as a unicorn, do they?"

"Not anymore," Noel said. "Mikey says that the horn chafes. Too bad; it would've been a good gimmick."

I had an idea. "Can anyone else sing?"

"Chica, _everyone_ else can sing," Lisa said. "Jeff, Noel and I were in the choir together at St. Anthony's."

"You were a choirboy, Noel?" I said.

"She's making it up," he said.

"Come on, baby," Lisa said. "Give her some 'Ave Maria,' you know you want to."

"Only if you'll bust out the 'Hail Holy Queen'," he said.

"I'll pass," she said. "But you should see how much the windows fog when he sings in Latin."

The boy turned so red.

"He's so cute when he blushes, isn't he?" Lisa said.

"He is," I said. _She's so into him_, I thought.

When we got to his house and he climbed out, he stretched himself out and it struck me how tall he was. Then I felt even worse about letting him take the backseat. He ran across his lawn and opened his door in what looked like three huge strides and let Lisa and me in.

"After you," he said, with a bow.

While we waited for the others and Lisa colorfully outlined what she planned to do with Jeff and Mikey when they got there, ("I say we make them eat the veggies at the bottom of the drawer in the fridge," she said. Noel seconded.)

I made a suggestion, unrelated to the ones they were making.

"Since you guys can all sing," I began. "Why don't we pick something with some harmonies."

"Because," Noel said. "We wanted to keep things simple."

"Which leads me back to the question: Why'd you need me?"I asked.

"We needed a soprano," Lisa said.

"I'm not really a soprano," I said.

"You're more of one than I am," Lisa said. "Hell, _Noel's_ more of one that I am."

"Which is why it's only fitting that she wear the pants in this band," Noel said. She took a swing at him, and he dodged her. Before she could recover, he pinned her arms to her sides.

"Say Uncle," he said.

"Like my uncle Manny?" she said. "With the tattoos? The one who _already_ wants to kick your ass?"

He let go of her.

"Thought so," she said, smoothing the wrinkles out of her top.

Part Twenty: Derek.

I beat everybody home. This never happens, so inspiration hit. I ran into Casey's room. There was something that I had to do. I handled that, then poked around on the computer till people started to come home.

Lizzie and Edwin were first, with Marti in tow. When I came down, it became clear that they still weren't talking to me, so I went back upstairs and sat on the bed. Next thing I knew, Nora was shaking me awake.

"Hey," she said, way friendlier than I expected. "Think you might come downstairs tonight?"

For a minute I wondered why she no longer looked like she wanted to give new meaning to the term "wicked stepmother."

"Think anyone wants me there?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Has that ever stopped you before?"

I clutched my chest and hit the wall behind me, sliding slowly to the floor. Nora stepped over me to get to the stairs. She shook her head and tried not to laugh at me.

By the time I got downstairs, everyone else was at the table, including Casey, which meant I got to do the dishes. I also got the feeling that Casey spilled the beans about our talk already. She didn't waste any time. By the looks of her, she couldn't have walked in the door more than fifteen minutes before. Her hair was all over the place, her cheeks were pink, and a little of the down from her jacket was stuck to her sweater. She looked like an ad for hot chocolate, or soup. She smiled at me and I wondered if I wasn't better off going back upstairs before I lost my mind.

"I really think it's a shame that I never learned how to make pierogies," Dad said.

"To what do we owe this completely random observation?" I asked.

"We're celebrating the end of the Cold War," he said. "At least some beef stroganoff would have been good."

"Gotta settle for my tuna casserole," Nora said.

I spooned a little onto my plate, then put the plate aside and grabbed the casserole dish. "So what are you guys gonna be eating?"

"De-_rek_!" Casey said, right on cue. I handed the bowl to Edwin.

Casey, back to normal, told us all about the kids in her band. One or two of them, besides Noel, sounded familiar. When she mentioned Lisa, I broke in.

"Lisa Garcia?" I asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "I think that's her last name."

"Her hair's blue now?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," she said.

"Had Science and Global Studies with her freshman year. She wouldn't go out with me." I muttered, a little surprised that I'd said the last part out loud.

"Well, I knew there was a reason I liked her," Casey said. Then she froze when she realized that she'd just insulted me again, but I laughed, so she laughed.

"So she's a tough nut to crack," I said. "I like a challenge."

"Get in line, Nutcracker Boy," Casey said. "I think that Noel will get there before you do. They're gonna make the cutest couple ever in...what time is it now?"

I looked around the table to see if anyone else thought Casey'd finally stepped off the Cliffs of Insanity. It looked like everybody else thought so, too.

Marti was the first to open her mouth, "But Noel—"

"Smarti, could you pass the peas?" Edwin asked, cutting her off.

"Huh?"

"The peas?"

"You don't even like peas," she said.

"Course I do," Edwin said. So Marti passed them.

Then Lizzie asked for the rolls, and Edwin asked for the milk and reminded Marti to finish her own peas, and after all of that, she'd forgotten what the heck she was going to say. For the moment.

I didn't know why Lizzie and Edwin wanted this particular bit of intelligence to go away, and I didn't ask, but someone needed to set Casey straight. I thought I'd ask Emily to do it.

After dinner, I got the privilege of cleaning up, just like I thought I would, and Edwin ran for the hills before I could make him take my place, so I was stuck. Casey helped. She was downright cheerful. I almost wished that I still wasn't talking to her. Almost, but not quite.

Later on I heard her scream "De-_rek_!"

Which meant that she'd found out one or more of three things:

I'd short-sheeted her bed—an oldie,but a goodie.

I'd changed all of her preset stations to reggaeton.

I'd reset her computer's wallpaper with Sam's new D-Rock logo. It was really cool, by the way, and had a dragon in it. Dragons tend to improve things by their very presence.

Then I was glad we were on speaking terms again.


	9. Chapter 9

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with _Life with Derek_ or its characters. Nor do I own Red Bull, Oprah, The Discovery Channel, or Chiclets.

Chapter Nine:

Part Twenty-One: Sheldon.

At school Tuesday morning, Derek stopped me in the hall and talked at me.

"Heeey, Schlep," he said. "Just the man I wanted to see! Walk with me a sec. How's your morning going? So listen, we're thinking of having practice at Ralph's again today. You can make it can't you? Okay cool. So I gotta go. Talk to you later."

I stood in the middle of the hall letting the people just flow around me for probably thirty seconds just so I could begin to translate Derek to English . It was just too early. It occurred to me that Sam and Ralph have to deal with this every day. I thought that they must be exhausted. But at least it meant that Derek was in a better mood.

I went to homeroom and there was Derek again, sitting backwards in his chair chirping to Ralph who looked only slightly more awake than I felt. He smiled like Derek was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. He nodded at me as I sat down a couple of rows over.

"What are you doing all the way over there?" Derek said. "C'mere."

I think that the Discovery Channel usually tells you to stay quiet and motionless in situations like this.

He came and got me. I ended up in the seat next to Ralph. I wondered if Derek would notice if I fell asleep on him. I stared at a really intricate flower someone had scratched into Ralph's desk probably ten years ago. If I looked intently focused, I figured, no one would notice that I was paying absolutely no attention.

"What do you think, Sheldon?" Ralph said.

"Sounds good to me," I said, with no idea of what I was agreeing to. I wracked my brain to figure out what they were talking about.

"Dude, you're not a morning person, are you?" Ralph said.

"You always used to be," Derek said.

For the record, I was _never_ a morning person. I just used to fake it better. I believed in the power of positive thinking, so if I pretended to be a morning person long enough, I'd have to become one. Didn't work. The problem was, I was getting sick of faking it.

"Who, me?" I said, not taking my chin out of my hand. "I'm _such_ a morning person. Look at me raring to go."

"Well, I'll tell ya what," Derek said. "I learned this from my little sis. You take some cereal, doesn't matter what it is, as long as there's lots of sugar in it. If there isn't, then you gotta add some. Then you pour chocolate milk over it."

"I think I just got a cavity," I said.

"Then," Derek continued. " What I figured out is if you follow that with a Red Bull, you're set for an extra hour or so, easy."

"Explains a lot, doesn't it?" Ralph said.

"Some," I said. Ralph laughed.

"Hey!" Derek said. But before he could say anything else, the announcements started and I had ten minutes of so of peace.

When the bell rang for the next class, Derek said:

"We'll pick this up later, I guess."

"Don't worry, I'll fill you in," Ralph said. "Once _I_ remember what we talked about." He winked and patted me on the shoulder. So he might have been kidding.

"The short version," Ralph whispered, "Is that he made up with Casey."

"That's good, I guess," I said.

"Go get a candy bar, dude," he said.

My first class that day was Spanish, with Emily. Senora Sanchez got involved in reviewing the difference between "ser" and "estar" and I took a lot of notes so that I could decipher it later. Then Senora Sanchez told us to pair off, so Em and I could talk for a bit. We tossed a couple of Spanish phrases in whenever she walked by, but mainly I got sucked into Emilyland. I wanna be mayor of Emilyland.

Okay. It's not like we didn't stay up till midnight the night before messaging each other online, but you know how it is. It was like we hadn't talked in weeks. Even half-asleep I came up with two or three Things to Tell Emily. We were still at that stage where whenever something happened, we looked at it through the filter of how we were going to make each other laugh with the story.

"Did you know that Derek puts chocolate milk on his cereal and chases it with Red Bull?" I said.

"Have you tried it?" Emily said. "It's good."

"The thought of it gives me the shakes," I said.

"Maybe it would finally make you into a morning person," Emily said. Then she said,"¿De donde eres?"

"Soy Canadiense," I said. "¿Y tu?"

"Soy tambien," Emily said.

Senora Sanchez walked away.

"Casey went online after you signed off last night," Emily said. "Derek changed the presets on her stereo to reggaeton and short-sheeted her bed. Oh, and reset her laptop's wallpaper with the new D-Rock logo. So she's happy as a clam."

"The dragon?" I said. "_Sweet_! But yeah, I heard they made up."

"But that's not all," Emily said. "You'll _love_ this."

"What," I said. "Did she get him back?"

"No," Emily said. "This isn't really related to that. But it's funny. You see, Casey, wants my help. Estoy bien, muchas gracias. ¿Y tu?"

"Estoy cansado," I said. "Pero estoy en amor."

Senora Sanchez snorted, trying to cover a laugh. I swear. Then she patted me on the head and went over to bother Holly Hendrix.

"Da me un besito," Emily said. Not wanting to push my luck with La Sanchez, I kissed Em's hand.

Emily leaned closer. "Casey wants me, and probably _you_, to help her set Noel up with Lisa Garcia."

"Wow," I said. "I'm impressed. She gives new meaning to the word clueless, doesn't she?"

"This is what I'm saying," Emily said. "Desorientado."

"Not that that wouldn't have been a good idea if Noel weren't pining over Casey," I said. "But what the heck is this? Denial to the umpteenth power?"

"No, I think she really doesn't get it," Emily said.

"So let me guess," I said. "It's gonna be our job to enlighten her?"

"Yo no se," Emily said. "Estoy..." She took a minute to flip through her book.

"It's _that_ easy? Who knew?" she said. "Estoy confuso."

Casey.

Max was back. Over the weekend he'd gone to his cousin's wedding somewhere in New Jersey. He referred to the town as West Buttmunch, so I never did find out exactly where it was. He got back the night before and as usual didn't call or email me once. Roaming charges, he said.

It was time to have a talk, one that we'd been avoiding for weeks but came pretty damn close to having on Friday before he left.

Max is a good guy. He's good hearted; he really is. I should be crazy about him. But I've slowly been coming to the realization that we have nothing in common. I didn't like to think about that; I pretended it had never occurred to me on Friday when Sheldon, the most casual of observers, brought it up.

The problem is, he has no imagination.

I had dinner with his family the night before they left. His mother was, understandably in a wedding frame of mind, and she was talking about the wedding they planned for Max's older brother Bill. The woman started to talk to me about the _napkin rings_. Apparently they were a slightly different shade of off white than the rest of the china.

"It was such a disaster!" she said. "But my sister hired Nigel Howard for this wedding, so really for the money she's laying out, things will match."

The only way I got through it was by imagining how Derek would react to the conversation. I literally pictured him trying to impale himself on assorted household items behind her back. So I managed a smile.

"And just think, Casey, honey," she said. "Maybe someday, we could be planning your wedding."

"Mom," Max said, shooting me an apologetic look.

"Yeah, I know, you're seventeen, sweetie," she said. "You still have McGill to look forward to." She turned back to me. "We can work on the wedding after he gets his M.B.A."

"M.B.A, huh?" I said. Max had never once mentioned wanting to be a business major.

"Oh, of course," she said. "He's always wanted to be an M.B.A, haven't you sweetie?"

Max nodded. I figured he was humoring her.

"Why McGill?" I asked. It turned out everyone in Max's family had gone to McGill. And most had majored in business or law. This is one of the best schools in Canada, I think. It was on my list of possibles up until that moment. None of this would have been so bad if at any point that night, Max had shown any actual interest in majoring in business. He didn't care one way or the other.

"College is college, Casey," he said to me later that night. "One major's as good as any other."

"But don't you have anything you're passionate about?" I asked. Not only could I not decide on a major, I couldn't even begin to narrow my interests down. Paul has already had several talks with me about not worrying about this. He tells me that a lot of people don't choose their majors until their sophomore year so there was no need to hyperventilate about it in grade 12.

"I mean, what do you _want_ to do?" I asked.

"I want to make enough money to support a family, like my Dad."

Again, that was not necessarily a bad thing; it was pretty nice, in fact.

"What about football?"

"Means to an end."

It blew my mind that someone could be so passionless and still have a pulse.

The next day, we got into a fight about I don't even remember what, I think it might have had something to do with seeing if he could argue with me while clinically dead.

Which brings me back to the "conversation" we needed to have. He made it difficult. We didn't have a chance to talk all day. He even had to meet with his coach during lunch, so he met up with me in the parking lot after school.

"I come bearing gifts," he said. He pulled out little lacy bags of those Jordan almonds they serve at weddings. "And a peace offering."

He gave me a little necklace, a carved wood rose on a leather string. "I'm sorry I didn't get to call you all weekend. The fam actually kept me pretty busy. I know you know how that is."

So I lost my nerve. I hugged him instead.

"You are so thoroughly sweet!" I said. We leaned on the hood of his car.

"So, how was your weekend?" he asked. I decided to accentuate the positive, at least for the moment, and left out the part about fighting with Derek, but I told him all about the band.

"It's amazing that you still do stuff like that," Max said.

"Huh?" I said. "_Still_?"

"Yeah," he said. "_Most_ people would've given up on the music thing by now, but you keep plugging away, even though you won't get anywhere with it. Just for fun."

Yep, that's what he said. I'm sure that it hadn't sounded like an insult in his head, but it sure as hell came out that way. Not that I think I'll get famous or anything, but the condescending tone that I'm sure he didn't even hear made me want to knock out his perfect little chiclet teeth.

"Okay," I said. "We need to talk."

"Am I gonna like this?"

"I guess it depends on your overall outlook." I said. "Which is an ironic thing to say, because I don't think you _have_ an outlook."

He looked puzzled. I was happy to explain.

"Max," I said. "Who are you?"

More puzzlement.

"What do you _think_? About anything? I look at you sometimes, and I wonder if you're even _here_ with me. You say the right thing, half of the time, or you try to, but you don't think about any of it. You're on autopilot. And as someone who cares about you, I think it's best to bring this to your attention."

"Have you been watching Oprah again?" Max asked.

"We need to break up," I said. "I'm sorry, Max, and this is going to sound horrible, but I don't mean it to. I hope someday you can really find something to care about, to feel some passion. For your sake." I stuffed the necklace into his jacket pocket, but kept the almonds.

A/N: No insult is intended toward McGill University, which I hear is really excellent, or the State of New Jersey which is pretty okay, too. ;-) The Jersey joke was intended to show Max annoying Casey a little.


	10. Chapter 10

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Ten

Part Twenty-Three: Emily

Most of our interpersonal drama was taken care of, so we needed to actually focus on the music. The plan was to get the top three or four on video and then watch them back to make the final decision on which one we were playing at Clash of the Bands. Sam, Ralph, Sheldon and I got to Ralph's house first, then Derek came bursting in like the Tasmanian Devil. He was practically mid-sentence.

"So there I was in the car on the way over here when it hit me. I totally know the song we should do! It was on Emily's list, and I'm pissed that I didn't think of it myself, because it's perfect. What do you guys think?" Derek said.

"It would help if you told us which song it was?" Sam said.

"Oh yeah," Derek said. He actually had to stop for a second to think of the actual title. "'This Is How a Heart Breaks'."

Ralph was the first one to light up. "Um," he said, straight faced, but clearly trying not to squeal like a little girl. "I think we could do that. Has a pretty good beat, doesn't it?"

"Sam?" Derek said. Sam was too busy trying not to laugh at the almost Christmassy look on Ralph's face to notice Derek talking to him. Derek poked his arm.

"Huh?" Sam said. "Oh, the song? Yeah, sounds okay to me. Whatcha think, Em?"

"It was from _my_ list," I said. "I'm all over it."

"Sheldon?" Derek said.

Sheldon looked thoughtful for a second. I thought he'd poke a hole in our plan, so I gave him a warning look.

"Sheldon?" I asked.

"I think it could be good," he said. "But..."

"But?" Derek said.

"Yep," Sheldon said. "But. It needs more than two singers."

Ralph looked like someone had come along and popped his balloon.

"That means that _at least_ one of you," Sheldon pointed at the three of them, "will have to join in."

"Okay, back to the drawing board, I guess," Derek said.

"Not yet," Sheldon said. "No need to give up so easily. Now, I'm guessing it can't be Ralph because he'll be too busy with all the drumming, and it's probably too much to do at once."

Ralph looked offended for a second. He put up an index finger, and opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again. I think that, at the last possible second, he remembered that he wanted no part in singing _anything_.

"Fair enough," he said.

"So that leaves—" Sheldon began.

"No!" Derek said.

"Not a chance," Sam said.

"Come on," Sheldon said. "How bad could you be? Derek?"

"God-awful," Derek said.

"Sam?" Sheldon asked.

"Not as good as Derek," Sam said.

"That is so not gonna cut it." Sheldon put on a stern schoolteacher face. It was so cute. He pointed to Sam.

"You go first," he said.

"What? No!" Sam said. But Sheldon would not let up.

"Do it," Sheldon said. I wanted to rip his clothes off.

So Sam sang a line. He was terrified and shaky, but there was really nothing wrong with his voice.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" Sheldon asked. He ignored Sam's nodding and turned to Derek. "You next," he said.

"It's _your_ ears," Derek said, shrugging. He opened his mouth and transformed into a cat who had just gotten his tail caught in a door. Sam, Ralph, and I alternated between snickers and expressions of pain.

"Happy?" Derek asked.

"I _will_ be the second you stop clowning around," Sheldon said. "Now cut out the Edith Bunker bullshit and do it again."

Sam cowered.

"Ooohhh," Ralph said. Casey would have loved this so much.

"I'm not clowning around," Derek said. "I really sing like that. I'm the only tone deaf one in the family. Dad likes to call me 'the changeling'. And now you gotta rub it in. I hope you're _happy_ for bringing my _fragile_ self esteem down another notch..."

"Do I have to start pointing out all the reasons you're not tone deaf, Derek?" Sheldon asked. He reminded Derek of the one of two times that he'd stopped Sheldon mid-line to tell him that he was off pitch, often hitting the right note on the keyboard to get him back on track.

"Not to mention the fact that you play guitar and a little piano, and you wouldn't have gotten far with either if you were really tone-deaf. Besides, I read someplace that the incidence of actual tone deafness is really rare. Most people can carry a tune. Outside of the first few episodes of _Idol_ tryouts, anyway," Sheldon said.

"Okay," Derek said. "I'll admit, there's nothing wrong with my _ears_, but that only means that I can hear exactly how horrible my voice is."

"Why don't you let us be the judge of that?" Sheldon asked.

Derek gave him the dirty look to end all dirty looks, but Sheldon grinned at him.

"Come on, dude," Sheldon said. "I made Sam do it; do you want him to be the only one?"

Sam finally saw the humor in the situation and gave Derek a sad clown face.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Derek said. Sam and Sheldon stared him down.

"I hate you both," Derek said. But he sang for real for a few bars; then Sheldon made him do it one more time. Under no circumstances could his voice be considered good, but it was nowhere near as bad as I was expecting it to be.

"Em?" Sheldon said. "Babe? I think we have something to work with."

Part Twenty-Four: Noel

While Casey sang 4 Non Blondes' "What's Up?" (Lisa's idea), I avoided looking at her. Because I'd stare like a creepy stalker guy, and we really cannot have that. Lisa smirked at me; she completely had my number. She was right in the middle of giving me a "make a move" look—widened eyes, head nodding toward Casey—when Casey herself looked up from her lyric sheet and caught us. She grinned at the both of us and put her arm around me to turn me to face the audience that we, technically didn't have yet.

Mikey put a stop to the song. "This is so not working!"

"I'm sorry!" Casey said. "I just can't keep a straight face; I don't know why. I really like this song, but it's striking me funny."

"Because it _is_ funny," Jeff said. "We should really try 'Wild Horses.'"

"We could," I said. "What key do you want that in, Case?"

"Whatever key you like," Casey said. "Since I picked it out for _you_ to sing."

"I dunno," I said. "Seems like it always sounds better when a woman sings it."

"But it's a Rolling Stones song," Casey said.

"So?" I said. "Still sounds better out of a woman."

"'Do You Like It?'," Jeff suggested. "OLP."

I thought about it for a second. "Maaaybe," I said.

"Possibly," Lisa said.

"Could be good," Mikey said.

"Um?" Casey said, wrinkling her nose.

"What?" I said.

"I don't know," Casey said. "That song..." 

"Yeah?" Lisa said.

"I just have a thing about it," Casey said. "How about 'Hands Down'?"

"Too high," I said. "Unless _you_ wanna sing it."

"Nope," Casey said. "It's a boy song. What if we just stick with 'Cry'? Or..." She scanned our list. She had her copy laminated. Sometimes she's so cute, I can't stand it. "'Blue Eyes.' That'd be cool. Or 'Lover, You Should've Come Over.'"

"Ooh?" Lisa said, catching my eye. She knows about me and my long history with that song. Which was why she picked it.

"What?" Casey said.

"Nothing," Lisa said. "It just happens to be _someone's_ favorite song is all."

"Someone's?" Casey said, a smile creeping across her face. "Whose?"

Everyone pointed at me while I tried not to look like an idiot.

"He can sing the hell out of it, too." Jeff said.

"Ca-ching," Casey said. "Looks like you gotta do that one." Then she said the magic words: "That song's so completely sexy." She fanned herself with her hand.

If there was a better way to get me to do something, I had yet to find it.

"Now if we can only get you to face the audience," Casey said, putting an arm around my shoulders again and turning me. Even though there was still no audience. Unless you count that teddy bear my Mom keeps on the couch. He really didn't look that interested.

But I take it back—putting an arm around me was a better way to get me to do stuff. She smelled like cucumbers, which was weird, but what the hell. Made me want salad. But I didn't sniff her. I am _not_ Creepy Stalker Guy.

We played the song. We've played it a hundred times, so no one really had to think about it, except Casey, who stuck in some harmonies and a fill here and there. I could've used a little more from her, actually. I tried to get her to take a verse, but she wouldn't. Then she started crying, so I stopped singing.

"What's goin on, Case?" I asked, which got everyone else to stop what they were doing.

"Ignore me," she whimpered, waving her hands to shoo me away.

"Just tell me what's wrong," I said.

"Nothing's wrong," she said. "You're perfect."

"Maybe the song's a little depressing?" Mikey said.

"Nope," Casey said.

"Uh-uh," Lisa said. "No way."

"You change it, and I'll kick your ass," Casey said. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'll get my little sister to kick your ass," Casey amended, wiping her nose.

"Marti?" I asked.

"_Lizzie_," she said.

"Yikes," I said. "And you still haven't told me what's wrong."

"It's nothing," she said, but she saw me staring her down. "I broke up with Max."

I think that under the circumstances I kept it together pretty well. And I kept my creepy stalker hands off of her. For that, I really think a medal would be in order. I mean, I didn't even do a happy dance.

"Ookay," I said. "Sit down. I'm not good at this, but lemme see. Want some tea? Chocolate?"

"Booze?" Lisa said, getting up from behind the drum kit and coming over. Casey snorted laughter.

"I'm okay," Casey said. "It was my idea, and it needed to happen."

_Yes it did_, I thought. "If you say so," I said.

"Want us to kick this Max's ass for you?" Jeff asked.

"It's Max Mihalik," I clarified. "Football team?"

"He heeh," Mikey said.

"Oh, _that_ dude," Jeff said, seeming to reconsider. "Hell with it. _I_ can take him."

"I told you," Casey said. " _I_ dumped _him_."

"He did something to piss you off, though," Jeff said. He cracked his knuckles. I've seen Jeff carry spiders outside rather than stomp them. He'd never beat anybody up, and it shows on his face. Casey giggled.

"We just needed to break up," Casey said. "But it happened, like, two hours ago, so I'm still a little wobbly. Okay if I go take ten?"

"Sure you don't wanna just call it a day?" I said, even though I did not want her to leave.

"Nah," Casey said. "I'm okay. I'll just be back in a few."

She went into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Don't make a move yet," Lisa said. "I didn't know there was a boyfriend."

"What? Move?" I said. "Who said anything about making a move? I wasn't gonna make a move!"

"Nooo, not you," Mikey said. "You'd just pine over her for the rest of your miserable emo life."

"Why would you think such a thing, Lisa?" Jeff said. "Noel? Get some actual mack on?"

"Gee, dunno," Lisa said. "Maybe I was misled by the Bambi eyes he's been giving her all afternoon. When he wasn't trying to avoid her, that is."

"Hey!" I said.

"Bambi eyes," Jeff said. "Good one."

"Shut up!" I said.

"Just don't wait _too _long," Lisa said. "Knowing you, she could drop dead waiting."

"Make up your mind, woman!" I said.

"Give her a few days," Lisa said. "Then I will poke you with whatever's handy every half hour until you _do_ something. As your friend, I think it is my duty."

"That's comforting," I said. "Do I get to do that to you next time you find some poor dweeb you want to drag back to your lair?"

"No," Lisa said, smacking me. "I don't need the help. _I _am not a wuss like you."

"Brian Myszhowski," I reminded her.

"Shut it," she said.

Casey came back in, and we ran through the song a few more times until she had a handle on it. Then it was time for everyone to take off. Lisa tossed me her keys, an ultimate sign of trust from her, and I took Casey home, and everyone else walked.

She gave me a little hug before she went in, which made my day, but I didn't dare to dream. Not yet, anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Eleven

Part Twenty-Five: Derek

I went to the kitchen for my usual before-dinner snack and Nora and Casey were in there, tea mugs in hand. The mugs were a tip off. They were having a heart-to-heart. I wanted no part of it, but I heard:

"He shook my hand, Mom," Casey said.

"_Shook_ your_ hand_?" Nora asked.

"Like it was a pleasure doing business with me," Casey said. "The way Edwin does when he thinks he's putting something over on you. This is how Max Mihalik ends a relationship."

That was when I laughed. They both looked up shocked, but really, that was the best thing I'd heard all day. Not only did Max cut Casey loose, but he did it in such a Max way. He shook her damn hand. She should be dancing in the street, having dodged the most boring bullet that ever walked the earth.

"Sorry," I said, waggling a packet of crackers.

"Dinner's gonna be ready soon," Nora said.

"Uh-huh," I said, reaching into the fridge for a water bottle. "Smells good."

Nora shook her head. I didn't even see her do it, but this is Nora, so she shook her head.

Casey went on like I wasn't there. "I feel horrible, though, the way I broke up with him," she said. "I told him that he needed to find some passion for something, but I made it sound like he was some kind of robot."

And suddenly I was stuck to the spot. _She_ broke up with_ him_!

"He asked me if I got that from Oprah," Casey said. "And that was the end of it. I said 'uncle', and that's when he shook my hand."

"Dude's a Borg," I said. They turned to me. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"No one would ever accuse you of having tact," Casey said.

"But you love me," I said. Nora choked on a cookie. So I must've said that out loud too.

"Of course, we love you, sweetie," Nora said after she'd taken a sip of her tea. _Sweetie?_ I thought.

Then, she got up and held me down while she planted a big, lipsticky kiss on my cheek. The woman is way stronger than she looks. This was supposed to make Casey laugh, but she was still sitting there like someone was drowning kittens in front of her. Her eyes were getting big, round and wet. I hated when stuff like this happened.

"I'm just a terrible person,"she said. "I hurt everybody who comes into contact with me."

"Only when you knock into them on the way down the stairs," I said, thinking fast.

"De-rek!" Casey yelped. Nora laughed from her spot in front of the stove. "Mom!"

"Sorry, honey," Nora said. Nora caught my eye and smiled.

"This is serious!" Casey said, but she was trying hard not to smile.

"Cory Plunkett thought so, too," I said. "It really bruised his ass, so I'm told."

Casey laughed a little at that. "Shut up!" she said.

"Though only _he_ would complain about a girl landing on him," I said. "Even _I_ would have had manners enough to say thank you. I wonder about that boy."

Nora hit me with a potholder, still smiling.

"Hey!" I said. "I was just saying! I think that mid-staircase collisions merit a handshake. It'd be a wonderful way to meet new people."

Casey threw a cookie at me and I caught it.

"Thanks, Sis," I said, taking a bite.

Part Twenty-Six: Lizzie

Derek dominated the dinner conversation again. This was our signal that things were completely back to normal. Edwin took advantage of it to completely bogart the spaghetti. Well okay, he made sure that Marti and I got some first, but Casey almost had to wrestle it away from him. Then when Derek took it from Casey, he still didn't stop talking.

What was he talking about? Hell if I know; it kinda started to sound like buzzing after a while. I know that he told us that his band is the best band ever—the best band ever to set foot on this earth.

"Nobody better tell the Beatles," Mom said, smiling.

"Or the Stones," George said.

"Or George of the Jungle," Edwin said. George smirked at him.

"Who?" Derek said. "Beatles? Stones? Hacks, the bunch of them." He waved a dismissive hand.

Edwin laughed.

"What's that, Ed?" Derek said, gesturing with his fork. "Do you doubt the almighty power of D-Rock? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Just a little," Edwin said. Derek shot him a dirty look, and Edwin backtracked. "Even though you guys are still my favorite band."

Derek laughed. "Good boy," he said.

"So I take it your band practice went well, then?" Mom asked.

"Yeah," Derek said. "It was okay."

"How about yours, Casey?" Mom asked.

Casey smiled and finished chewing in a hurry. "Wasn't bad," she said.

"Is that it?" George asked.

Casey shook her head, looking pretty much like she was going to bust.

"It was so cool!" she squealed. "Everyone's so talented, and they all went out of their way to make me feel welcome."

"Then you'll be really good at consoling each other when you all lose," Derek said.

"Derek," George warned.

"No, it's okay, George," Casey said. "He's so _happy_ laboring under that delusion. He'll have to face the truth soon enough."

"Ooooh" Marti sing-songed.

Now it was getting interesting.

"Trash talk," Derek said. "She's trying to trash talk me! That is _soo_ cute!"

"The simple unadorned truth is not trash talk," Casey said.

"I agree," Derek said, "But that wasn't it. That, sis, was trash talk."

"Keep telling yourself that, _bro_," Casey said. "And you have sauce on your chin, by the way. You're like a monkey."

Edwin leaned forward a little and stage-whispered to me: "Why did we complain when they weren't talking to each other? Could you remind me?"

"Love ya too, Ed," Derek said, slinging an arm around him.

"And I thought you had a no touching policy, too," Edwin said, trying to wiggle away.

"For you, I make exceptions," Derek said.

I tried to change the subject, and accidentally stumbled into a minefield.

"So did Max get back yet?" I asked.

Derek put his head down, pretending to focus on his spaghetti, but his ears perked up, it was so obvious. He looked at her from underneath his hair, but looked down again.

"Yeah," Casey said. "He certainly did. And we had a talk."

"Uh-oh," Edwin said.

"Oh dear," George said.

"Are you gonna cry?" Marti asked.

Casey shrugged. "We broke up. Stop making it seem like I'm Mount Vesuvius and you guys are Pompeii. It was coming for a long time; we all knew it."

"How'd he take it?" Edwin asked.

"Okay," Casey said. "I think."

"You think?" George asked.

"He never reacts to anything, so I just can't tell," Casey said.

"He shook her hand," Derek said.

It was a little hard not to laugh at that, but I managed it. It was just such a Max thing to do.

"Don't help, Derek," Casey said.

Derek was enjoying this, not because he lives to see Casey suffer, as Casey herself would say, but because we all knew that Max was no good for her. Because Derek actually cares.

"What's Mount—" Marti said. "Mount..."

"Vesuvius," Edwin said.

"Big volcano," Derek said, making cartoon explosion noises. "And we're the villagers who live right under it." He slid under the table to hide. Marti watched him with interest.

"Derek," Casey said.

"I'm not coming up until you're done spewing lava," he said.

"Okay," Edwin said. "I'll just relieve you of the rest of your spaghetti."

"Keep dreaming," Derek said, climbing back into his chair.

"Are you okay?" I asked, turning back to Casey.

"Yeah," Casey said. "I'm relieved."

"You're not gonna get back together with him, are you?" Marti said.

"I thought you liked Max," Casey said. "You didn't kick him or anything."

"I didn't hate him," Marti said. "It's not like he was Snot or anything. I just wasn't crazy about him."

"Me neither, actually," Casey said, slumping a little. "But he was nice and he seemed to like me..."

"Is that all you look for in a guy?" Derek said.

"Don't start, Derek," Casey said. "Can I be excused?"

"Yeah, okay," George said.

Derek looked really annoyed. "I think someone needs to have a talk with her," he said.

"Drop it, Derek," George said.

"Can I be excused?" Derek asked.

"Nope," George said; he gestured with his fork. "Eat."

Derek sat there for a minute or so looking like he'd never eat again, but picked up his fork and finished his spaghetti. Can't keep a boy away from his pasta.

After dinner, Derek took off for his room and Edwin and I got stuck with the dishes like we usually do. He washed; I dried.

"Think he went up to yell at her?" Edwin asked.

"Nah, we'd hear it," I said. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Knock, Knock," Edwin said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on," Edwin said. "Knock, Knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Butch and Jimmy," Edwin said.

"Butch and Jimmy, who?" I said. Why prolong the inevitable?

"Butch your arms around me and Jimmy a kiss," Edwin said. I smacked him with the dishtowel.

"You're an idiot," I said.

"Okay okay," he said. "How bout this? Guy walks into a bar..."

Part Twenty-Seven: Casey.

I did my homework, but I was done with it too damn quickly to suit my needs. I sprawled across my bed. I picked up _Death of a Salesman_, which I had to read by next week, but it was depressing me too much. I logged about twenty pages, then threw it across the room.

Derek took the opportunity to come into my room and pick up the book.

"So, what'd this Arthur Miller dude do to you?"he asked.

"Have you read it?" I asked.

"No, I don't do that," he said. He tossed it onto my desk. Then, he sat in my chair.

"Do make yourself at home," I said.

"Will do," he said.

"That wasn't an invitation," I said.

He ignored me and spun in my chair a couple of times.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Chocolate," he said. "But I don't think we have any."

"Did you think I was hiding some in here?" I asked.

"Nah, I would've found it by now," he said. He was noodling around on my computer, trying to figure out my password to get in. "But that's not important."

"You'll never guess it," I said.

"I like a challenge," he said.

My phone rang.

"Noel!" I said.

"Damn caller ID," he said. "I was gonna ask you if you had Prince Albert in a can, but since you know it's me..."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"You know," he said. "I just thought that I'd, um..."

"Check up on me?" I said. "That' so cute! Derek's kind of doing that too, I think." It had dawned on me that second that that was what Derek was up to.

"Am not," Derek said. "Told you. I want chocolate."

"Nope, uh-uh," I said. "No takebacks. You were checking up on me, and you might as well admit it."

"I'd die first," Derek said.

"That can be arranged," I said.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Noel asked.

"Oh! Sorry," I said. "So how's the rest of _your_ day going?" Derek tugged on a lock of my hair on his way out of my room. I smacked him in the leg. Apparently the sound traveled.

"Ouch," Noel said.

"Well, Derek should learn not to pull my hair," I said.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Noel said.

"I will," I said.

"So," Noel said. "Onto what I'm really bugging you for."

"You're not bugging me," I said.

"Well then I'm just not doing my job," he said.

I giggled.

"Guess I gotta raise my game," Noel said.

"I live with the ultimate bug, Noel," I said. "You're fighting a losing battle. So why don'tcha tell me what you're thinking?"

"I think we need to rehearse some back-up songs," Noel said.

"You're not wussing out of the Buckley!" I said.

"Nope," Noel said. "I have no intention to, but it's like having an extra twenty hidden somewhere in your wallet. Just in case. Kinda irresponsible to just practice one song."

I guessed it was hard to argue with that logic.

"What do you have in mind?" I said.

"Can't get 'Wild Horses' out of my head," Noel said.

I was half afraid that he'd bring up "Do You Like It?" by OLP, again. I was so relieved that they listened to me about that. The damn song reminds me of Derek and the lyrics? Way too close to home.

And then there's the lead singer, whose voice puts me in mind of older brothers trying desperately to comfort their hysterical siblings. Sound familiar? And I love OLP but I just can't deal with it right now.

"Um, Casey?" Noel said. "You still there?"

"Yeah," I said. "'Wild Horses,' huh?" I was so flattered that he picked a song from my list.

"Yep," he said. "Think you can get the words down by tomorrow?"

"Why?" I said. "Do I need to remind you that the idea was to have you sing it?"

"Do I need to remind you that I didn't ask you to join us just to sing backup?" Noel said. "Since when are you shy?"

Good question.

"So tomorrow?" Noel asked. "Same place, same channel?"

"Okay," I said.


	12. Chapter 12

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: Let's see... I don't own _Life with Derek_, "Wild Horses," _Rain Man, Maxim Magazine, Outbreak, Cabin Fever, The Price is Right, The Young and the Restless, _or_ Days of Our Lives. _

Chapter Twelve

Part Twenty-Eight: Derek

I woke up a little earlier than usual and thought, silly me, that I'd hop into the shower. I figured that usually the fight for the bathroom didn't start for another half an hour, but I tried to get into the bathroom and found it locked. I knocked my head against the door in defeat and as I leaned there I heard muffled singing.

Then it got louder until I recognized the song: "Wild Horses."

And I realized two things. The first was that we had to raise our game because if that was how Casey sounded in the _shower_ at 6:30 in the morning, we were dead.

The second thing I realized was that there was gonna be no hiding how crazy I was about Casey. I felt like crying, almost. But in the short run, there was nothing to do but climb back into bed until I knew she was safely in her room.

After another ten minutes or so, she left and I ran in there like I was on fire. The least I could get out of this already depressing morning was a hot shower before the rush. It probably should've been a cold shower, but it was already so cold in the house that I couldn't stop myself from putting the hot water on. And after a few minutes, I was more depressed than horny anyway.

At breakfast, as usual, everyone was all up in my business about how I wasn't my usual lovable self. I blamed it on a lack of caffeine.

"Want some coffee with your sugar?" Casey asked. I growled at her. She giggled as I poured some chocolate milk into it. Like that was a weird thing to do.

It was her turn to drive so I leaned back in the passenger seat and tried my best not to fall asleep on the way.

Casey pulled into the parking lot, shut the car off and turned to me.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"Why do you assume it's a girl?" I asked.

"Because I've met you," she said. "And you have it bad, so you may as well spill so maybe I can find out from Emily if you have a chance."

"It's not a girl," I lied. It was a perfect opportunity to tell her the truth, but I knew that no good could come from that.

"Is it a guy?" Casey asked.

"What?!" I said, laughing for the first time that day. "Are you nuts?"

"Thought it'd make you laugh and it did," Casey said.

"There's a difference between laughing with you and laughing at you, HeadCase," I said.

"Well, if it makes you happy, Der-bear..." she began.

I growled.

"You can go ahead and make fun of me all you want," she said. "_Smerek_."

I grabbed the side of her head and gave it a light push to the side. Then I got out of the car.

Part Twenty-Nine: Casey

It was mega cold outside, so I ran like hell into the building and made a beeline for the coffee vending machine. It's been described, kindly, as a relic from a bygone era, but it would probably dispense some sort of edible hot drink, so it was my buddy. I spent a few seconds debating the relative merits of the "chicken soup" or the "French Vanilla" coffeelike substance.

I heard Derek say "Aww what the _hell_!" as I hit the soup button and it sputtered out into a paper cup. I brought it with me to investigate.

I found Derek standing in front of Sheldon and Emily. Sheldon had his forehead up against his locker, and seemed to be ignoring the world at large.

"Do I wanna know?" I asked.

"Nope," Derek asked. He looked at his watch. "8:07," he said.

"Huh?"I asked.

"The moment when this day officially went into the shitter," he said.

"That's classy," Emily said.

"Why?" I asked.

Derek jerked a thumb at Sheldon. "He's sick," he said.

"I'm sick," Sheldon echoed. He dragged out the word "sick" for emphasis.

"What happened," I asked.

"Got a flu shot," he said. "Mainly, I think the universe hates me."

"Will you please take your damn head off that locker before you melt it?" Derek said.

"Are you running a fever?" I asked. I have a flair for the obvious.

"Nope," Sheldon said. "I like my locker, and it likes me. It's all nice and cool."

"Why are you here, you dumbass?" Derek asked.

"Test," Sheldon said. "In Psych."

"We have a Psych test?" Derek asked.

"Yep," Sheldon said.

"Oops," Derek said. "Oh well. It's just one test."

"Ms. Martinez gets pissy when you miss her tests," Emily said. "Automatic zero."

"If anyone can afford one little teeny tiny zero..." I began. This logic was completely against everything I normally believed in, but one look at Sheldon made me want to say anything that would get him to go home where he belonged.

"Uh-uh," Sheldon said, pointing a finger in my general direction. "I _will_ be valedictorian."

Derek twirled a finger by his right ear and whistled. "Cra-zy," he sing-songed.

"Here," I said, handing over my cup. "Have some soup."

Sheldon looked at the contents of my cup like it was radioactive. It did sort of glow, come to think of it.

He put his head back on his locker. "No thanks," he said.

"You're going to the nurse right after the test, riiiight?" Derek said.

"Mmmhhmmm," Sheldon said. He could have been agreeing to anything.

Part Thirty: Sheldon.

We had Psychology first period, so I could take the damn test and hopefully get my stupid ass home before _The Price is Right_. I was ready for the test, sorta. I figured that I'd be able to bullshit my way through it anyway.

But the bell rang, and no Ms. Martinez. Then the door opened.

"Hey, guys; I am Paul—just Paul," Paul said. "For those of you who don't already know me. I'm here because Ms. Martinez will not be in today..."

"Woohoo!" Derek said.

"Because she's got a touch of the flu," Paul said. "She tried to email me the test, but it wouldn't go through, so I guess you guys have an extra couple days to study."

I put my head down on the desk with a bonk.

"So this period will be study hall," Paul said. "Is he okay?"

He prodded my shoulder. "Sheldon," he said. "Earth to Sheldon."

I turned my head to the side a little and opened an eye.

"Uh-huh," Paul said, after he got a good look at me. "Let's see...Derek?"

"Yo," Derek said.

"Why don't you make sure that Sheldon makes it to the nurse alive?" Paul asked, to general laughter. The misfortune of others is always entertaining.

"'Kay," Derek said. "Come on, _Outbreak_ Monkey."

"Did I mention that the universe hates me?" I said.

"You might've brought that up, yeah," Derek said. He tried to drag me by the back of my shirt, but I got up before he could get a good grip. He grabbed my arm.

"Ow," I said. "Not that arm."

"Sorry," Derek said.

"You didn't drive here did you?" Derek asked.

"Nope," I said. "Battery's dead. I got a ride."

"Uh-huh," Derek said.

He asked the nurse if he could drive me home, dontcha know? As much as he doesn't like to admit it, Derek's a nice guy, so I won't say that there was _no_ altruism in that. But really, after he dumped me off, he was so going to the movies or something. The nurse, Mrs. Kingston, thought so too.

"Nice try, Derek," she said.

"I'm only trying to help," Derek said.

I started laughing, but it made my head hurt worse so I quit.

"Hey!" Derek said. "Is it so hard to believe that I'd have my friend's best interests at heart?"

Mrs. Kingston cracked up. "Actually," she said, after she was done. "I do believe that, but I still can't sign you out. We'd never see you again."

The corner of Derek's mouth twitched. "Foiled again."

"Listen," she said, trying not to laugh some more. "Hang out here until Mrs. Schlepper comes and I'll write you a pass. You get out of whatever class you just left. Fair enough?"

"Okay, I guess," Derek said. He didn't mention that nothing was going on in that class that day.

Mrs. Kingston pushed me onto a cot and threatened to stuff me into a file cabinet if I moved. She took my temperature with one of those strip thingees, tsked over it and then pushed me back down as I sat up to look. She asked about my symptoms and I told her—headache, muscle aches, fever, general feeling that my life sucks, and I mentioned the flu shot. She made me take off my button down and raise the sleeve of my t-shirt to get a look at the injection site. It was a little red, a little swollen, not nearly as bad as I pictured it. I imagined it would be like something out of _Cabin Fever_.

"Throat hurt?" she asked.

"Nope," I said.

"Wheezing?"

"Nope," I said.

During all this, Derek hung out in a chair, reading pamphlets. He was very interested in the one that showed how to do breast self-exams.

"You're a perv," I said.

"You don't see me denying it," he said.

"So I guess I'm not making it to practice today," I said.

"I would assume _not_," Derek said, not looking up from the pamphlet. "I'm just gonna resign myself to losing to..._Casey_." He shuddered.

"Getting a little ahead of yourself aren't you?" I said.

"Nope," he said. "You look like you're out of commission."

"The damn thing is two and a half weeks away," I said. "I'll be okay in a couple days."

He looked at me like I was full of it. "We'll see," he said. "It's not like we're giving up yet, _necessarily_, but in the meantime, you are going home to eat soup and watch Days of Our Young and Restless or whatever it is you watch until you're better. Or I'll sic Casey on you..." He said more, but after a while I just ended up watching his hands. He's one of those guys who talks until his hands get tired. That struck me funny, so I laughed.

"What exactly is funny about that?" I said.

"I dunno," I said. It also occurred to me that he sounded like my mother, but I valued my life, so I didn't mention it.

"You're delirious," he said.

"Is that what it takes for you to be funny?"

"So I've been told," Derek said.

A little later, Derek was in the middle of wondering out loud where Emily could get a nurse's uniform on short notice, when my Mom came in.

"Two words, Schlep: Sponge Bath," Derek said. "Consider the possibilities."

"You must be Derek," my Mom said. Derek turned a nice purplish red.

But he still didn't miss a beat. I wish I could do that.

"Ahh my reputation precedes me," he said.

"That it does," Mom said, putting out a hand to shake. "I'm Sharon Schlepper."

I saw the wheels turning in his head. He was thinking: Shawn, Shawna, Sheldon, Sharon...Little did he know that my Dad is Shawn Sr.

This type of thing, giving all us kids cute alliterative names, is why when the time comes, my parents will be going into the kind of nursing home they do exposés on for the ten o'clock news. Evil. Eeevil, I tell you.

On our way out, Derek called: "Don't forget what I said, Schlep: chicken soup, vitamin C, soap operas!"

"Ummkay," I said.

Part Thirty- One: Edwin.

Derek grabbed Lizzie and me in front of the cheese bus.

"How'd you two like a ride home?" Derek asked.

We'd been going to Thompson for about six weeks already and this was the first time Derek had publicly acknowledged us. Casey waved to us once in a while. Although, to be fair, we were left alone on Freshman Friday, though I think that was more Sam's influence than Derek's. His little sister Danielle was in our class, too.

"You want something," I said.

"Hey!" Derek said.

"What is it?" Lizzie asked. She was ready to leave both of us standing there and get on the bus.

"I don't have all day, guys," Junior, the bus driver, said. Then I realized we were the only ones left standing outside.

"How ya doin, Junior?" Derek said.

"Please tell me you're not about to climb onto my bus, Venturi," Junior said.

"You know you miss me," Derek said.

"You keep telling yourself that, boy," Junior said. "I'm closing the doors, kiddies."

"Go ahead," Lizzie said in defeat, "I guess we have a ride today."

"With _him_?" Junior asked. "Seatbelts!" Derek winked as the bus pulled away.

"So what was it that you wanted, Derek?" Lizzie asked.

"Actually," Derek said. "It's more of a win-win situation. You see, you guys get exclusive access to a D-Rock rehearsal and all you have to do is videotape it."

"Not as bad as I thought it'd be," I said.

"Way to jinx it, Edwin," Lizzie said. "You want us to move heavy equipment, don't you?"

"Nope, just videotape," Derek said. "Why does everyone think so little of me?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes.

We stopped at the house to get the camera; then we went to Ralph's. Ralph, Emily, and Sam sat in the living room looking like someone died.

"No Sheldon?" Lizzie asked.

"Nope," Emily said. "His mother had to come get him at school this morning."

"He's probably praying to the porcelain god right now," Ralph said.

"Yikes," I said.

"That's why the video," Derek said. "I figure, if we're really lucky, he'll only be out of it until Monday or so. That's if we're lucky, mind you. Could be way longer."

"So what's a video have to do with this?" I asked.

"I was getting to that," Derek said. "Jeez. First of all, he's gonna be bored as shit. Secondly, weneedhimtotelluswhattodo."

"What was that?" Emily asked.

"We need him to tell us what to do," Derek said through gritted teeth. "He's the only one who knows what the hell he's doing..."

"Hey!" Sam and Ralph said.

Emily nodded in agreement.

"And knowing him," Emily said. "He'll want to be on top of things." She paused for a second to think about that.

"Know what? Maybe that's not such a good idea," Emily said.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"He needs a break," Emily said. "Dunno if you guys have noticed, but he's a little neurotic."

"Who? Sheldon?" Sam said.

"Naw," Ralph said. "Not him."

"No, no, no," Derek said. "Seriously? I live with the High Priestess of Neurosis. Sheldon's a slacker compared to Casey."

"Okay," Emily said. "I will admit that I've never seen him grub for grades, but he does freak a little if he gets below a 97 percent. He's been trying to get himself away from that lately, but he just dragged himself into class today because he didn't want to miss a test that wasn't even going to be counted for much of his grade. You heard him today. If he doesn't make saluditorian at the very least, he might just shrivel up and die. He has a stack of college applications that would probably put your _Maxims_ to shame. He barely sleeps!"

"So what's he doing wasting his time with us?" Sam asked.

"Extracurriculars," Emily said. "And probably to blow off a little steam. And 'cause you asked him."

"Thought he was a little stiff, a little twitchy, but this is ridiculous," Derek said.

"Pretty much his whole family's like that," Emily said. "I mean, don't get me wrong; they're nice and all, but really competitive."

"The class president thing," Sam said.

"Yep," Emily said.

"So what do we do?" Derek asked.

"Today's Wednesday," Emily said. "We leave him alone until Friday at least. I'll keep calling him, to check up, but he needs sleep."

"So we tape practice today," Emily continued. "But we hold off on giving the tape to him, until then."

"Okay," Derek said. "I guess you're singing lead today, Em."

"I am?" she asked. "Why not you, Sam?"

Sam turned into _Rain Man_. "Uh-uh, nope, can't make me, not happening..."

"Or you, Derek?" Emily asked.

"NO!" Lizzie and I said.

So Emily sang lead that day, and totally mugged for the camera, I might add.

"I think I could be a music video director," I said to Lizzie, while I was packing up the camera. "That'd be a cool job to have."

"Wrangling temperamental and possibly stoned musicians?" Lizzie said.

"Wrangling bikini clad supermodels?" I said, zipping the case.

"You wish," she said. She pushed me into an armchair.

"I do," I agreed. "Besides, I think I have some experience with temperamental musicians, anyway."

I got up to follow her to the car.


	13. Chapter 13

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Thirteen

Part Thirty-Two: Casey.

Practice was pretty hectic. We ran through Noel's song three times, and mine twice before we took a break. Then I finally got a chance to go to Noel's living room and call Emily to see how Sheldon was doing. The way rumors spread in our high school, I'd actually heard that he'd been carried out on a stretcher. No way did I believe that, but I wanted to know how he was doing all the same. When Em finally picked up, I could hear Derek ranting in the background:

"There is _no_ cell phone usage during a D-Rock rehearsal!" He yelped. "This is unprofessional is what it is!"

"Breathe, Derek," Emily said. "Breathe in...breathe out...now, feel better? Good."

"So, what's up, Case?" Emily said to me.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, no less!" Derek said in the background. Emily laughed.

"I wanted to know what happened with Sheldon," I said. "I heard he got airlifted to the E.R."

Emily laughed harder. "He went to the nurse finally and his mom came and got him. Derek's actually the one that dragged him."

"Really?" I asked. Who knew?

"Paul made me do it," Derek called.

"So, how bad?" I asked. I hoped he wasn't out of commission. I wanted to beat him.

"Not horrible," Emily said. "He's gonna stay home a couple days, but he'll be okay."

"Good," I said.

"You actually heard he was airlifted to the hospital?" Emily asked.

"No," I admitted. "But I heard there was an ambulance involved. None of the idiots we go to school with ever stopped to wonder why there weren't any lights and sirens."

"I only report," Emily said. "I do not analyze. It'd give me a headache. Meanwhile Derek came up with the idea—"

"Hi, Casey!" Derek said. He obviously took the phone from Emily. "You wouldn't happen to be trolling for information, or anything...checking out the competition, perhaps?"

"Yeah, Derek," I said. "That's exactly what I was doing." Derek's consistent belief that the world revolves around him can sometimes be comforting. You always know where you stand in the grand scheme of Derek.

"Actually," Derek said. "Now that I think about it, we have _nothing_ to worry about. Troll all you want, you'll only realize that much sooner that You. Will. Lose." I could hear Sam groan in the background.

"Gimme that," Sam said. "Hey, Case. You should really ignore him. We're running a _classy_ competition here." I could hear him smacking Derek. "Or, we're trying to, anyway."

"Please, this is me," I said. "I _always_ ignore Derek."

"Good girl," he said.

Then Emily came back on. "So it's business as usual, Casey."

"Yeah, I can tell," I said. "Well, I'll let you go then." We said our goodbyes and hung up.

"That's amazing," Lisa said from somewhere behind me. I jumped a little.

"Sorry," she said. "Couldn't help but overhear a little of that."

"No worries," I said. "So, what's amazing?"

"How you and your stepbrother can do a Punch and Judy routine over the _phone_." Lisa said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Um?" Lisa said. "I dunno; it just seems like the two of you have your...thing."

"Thing?" I asked. Lisa raised an eyebrow.

"Ew?" I said.

"Why Ew?" she asked. "He's cute enough. I almost went out with him in grade nine."

"What stopped you?" I asked.

"His inability to look me in the eye," she said. "I sprouted early. He could've guessed my cup size, but probably couldn't tell me my eye color."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," I said.

"Nah," Lisa said. "That sounds like _every_ fourteen-year-old boy that ever walked upright. And some who haven't. I hear he's grown up a bit."

"Don't believe everything you hear," I said. "Actually what Derek does is the eye-flick. Like this." I demonstrated, looking her up and down really quickly before looking her in the eyes.

"The eye flick is okay," Lisa said. "Speaking of not believing everything you hear, did Sheldon Schlepper really have to be resuscitated twice on the way to the hospital?"

I laughed and told her the real story.

"Good deal," she said. "So about you and Derek. Nothing's going on?"

_She had better not be scoping Derek; that'll completely screw up my plans for her and Noel_, I thought.

"No!" I said. "Why? Are you thinking of asking him out?"

"Nope," she said. "Just wondering. I know all about you and Max, and I guess I was just curious to see if you'd gotten on the old horse already. So to speak. Sorry if I'm being really nosy. But I'm nosy."

"Nope," I said. "I am officially single. How bout you?"

"At the moment," she said.

"I kinda wondered," I began. "If you and Noel ever considered..."

"Last year," she said. "For about five months. He's a sweetheart. _Highly_ recommended."

"If he's so recommended, then..."I asked.

"It just didn't work out," she said.

"That sucks," I said. It just ruined my day.

"We're closer _now_, I think," she said.

_Fat lot of good that does me_, I thought. But I shrugged and we went back to the basement again.

Part Thirty-Three: Lisa.

This was a dilemma. I didn't believe Casey for a second when she said there was nothing between her and Derek. I'd heard the rumors and I didn't believe everything I heard, but the lingering buzz around school is that Derek Venturi hasn't gone after a girl since that blond girl—Sara? Cindy? Sally? Whatever. That was several months ago. There was a rumor that he might have been gay, but that one died pretty fast. Not because it was covered up, but because no one bought it. If Derek Venturi were gay, he'd be out. Very much out. Jack from _Will and Grace_ out. And nobody would have given him any shit about it. That's the type of guy he is.

No, he was after a girl who wasn't having it. And I'd just figured out who that girl was. And I was getting the feeling that she was into him, too. Noel told me all about the two of them and how they interacted, and from the little I'd seen for myself, it was suddenly an easy leap to make.

_Now,_ I wondered. _What about my boy, Noel?_

He wasn't an idiot. He'd heard all the rumors, too. He was pointedly ignoring them, in the hopes that he had a chance. He had to try, after all. And that was a big step for him. As long as I've known him, he's been the most careful, timid little mouse in the land. He wasn't shy around _us_, but new people used to turn to me or Jeff and ask us if Noel could speak. In front of him. And he still wouldn't say anything. Weeks could go without them hearing his voice. The first time he had a solo in the church choir, (the nuns threatened him with eternal damnation if he didn't do it, and still he had to think it over) people,especially old ladies, came up to him for weeks afterward, just dumbfounded.

"I can't believe how well you sing!" they'd say. "I didn't know you could talk!"

Then, of course, we'd had to needle him for weeks to try out for that play, because he wanted to, but he never would've done it without a push. Finally we dared him and that did the trick. For a minute.

He called me after the first rehearsal.

"Great idea _this_ was," he said. "I'm the friggin' _lead_! I am soo quitting!"

"Don't be such a pussy," I said. "This is not brain surgery. Chase the girl, sing the dorky songs, clank a couple of swords, and you'll be fine."

And, needless to say, he was. And when he told me about the flowers he sent to Casey, I thought I'd drop dead.

"Grasshoppah," I said. "The student has become the teacher!"

But then he told me about how he'd yanked the card and we were back to square one.

So here he was, finally trying to make a move for himself and I'm wondering if I should stop him. Initiative should be rewarded, and if I stopped him, I'd run the risk of baking his confidence completely. Then he'd puss out of the Clash of the Bands and go back to quietly playing his guitar in his room for the rest of his life.

All of the slow, painful progress Jeff, Mike and I had made with Noel was going to go into the toilet because of this oblivious little wench with a thing for her stepbrother. Made me wonder if she was even good enough for my little Noel.

Not my Noel. Thinking of him that way was kind of a bad habit. When we broke up, it was mostly my idea, because I was acting far too much like a mother and not enough like a girlfriend. I did not want to be that person. I'd only drive him crazy in the end.

As a friend, I could boss him without the attendant guilt.

Part Thirty-Four: Emily

As promised, I brought Sheldon the DVDs that Derek made Edwin burn. And Derek, for once, was completely right—by the time I got there after school on Friday, Sheldon had been bored halfway out of his mind.

"Salvation," he said, when he opened the door. I gave him a hug and, remembering that he was never contagious, a big kiss, and got rewarded a little stubble burn from two days worth of scruff from an unshaven boyfriend. Totally worth it.

"Hungry?"he asked. "I think I can rustle you up some of the twenty gallons of soup my Mom picked up."

"I'm good," I said.

I handed him the couple of jewel cases and he popped one in right off the bat. He sat on the couch and patted the seat beside him. Then he pulled me close, so that I could lean on him.

One thing about Sheldon—he'd have made sure he showered even if he had end-stage Ebola, and not just because he knew I was coming. He was weird like that, but in a good way. So even though he didn't shave, and his hair was going off in every possible direction, he smelled like that stuff I bought him. The boy was absolutely made to be curled up against.

We were just starting to get comfortable when we heard a door slam.

"Alright, break it up, you two," Sheldon's older brother, Shawn, said. He barreled in, a slightly older, longer-haired version of Sheldon, with a laundry bag in one hand, backpack in the other. So he was home for the weekend.

He dropped both bags and stood next to the couch for a second to stare from us to the television.

"Do I not get a hug?" he said.

Sheldon rolled his eyes, hit the pause button, and untangled himself from me to get up.

"No, not you, _Vonce_! _Her_!" Shawn said, getting another eyeroll in response. Sheldon pretended like he was going to sit down again, and Shawn pulled him into a hug.

"You too," Shawn said, hugging me. "Shel, ya really do know how to pick em. How did you manage to trick this one, again?"

"Post-hypnotic suggestion." Sheldon said.

"Gotta try that," Shawn said. "So? How's the sickie? Should I go through your pockets to look for loose change?"

"As you wish," Sheldon said.

"You're supposed to say that to _me_!" I said.

"Oops," Sheldon said. I stopped him before he actually said it.

"Is there any food?" Shawn asked.

"Soup," Sheldon said. "Lots of soup."

"Good deal," Shawn said, heading for the kitchen.

"Have fun storming the castle," I said.

"What's a _vonce_?" I asked Sheldon.

"Bedbug," Sheldon said. "It's a Grandma-ism."

"Gotta remember that one for Dimi," I said.

Sheldon hit the play button and ran all the way through our half-assed version of "This is How a Heart Breaks." Then, he played it again, a smile starting to spread across his face.

"You nailed the harmonies already," he said.

"Was there a doubt in your mind?" I asked.

"I knew you _could_ do it," Sheldon said. "But I thought Derek would dick around till the end of the world, but _look_ at him, being all serious and stuff."

"Yeah," I said. "We couldn't believe it either."

"Meanwhile, look at _you_, Miss Rock Goddess," he said. "Looks like you don't need _me_ for much."

"Uh-uh, bullshit," I said. "You will be at practice on Monday at the latest, if I have to drag you there and tie you to the micstand."

He sat there for a second, looking at me incredulously before opening his mouth.

"Gently," he said. From the kitchen, there was the sound of someone choking on soup.

Part Thirty-Five: Nora.

Saturday afternoon, George and I were supposed to have made ourselves scarce, but curiosity got the better of us. It was the first practice the kids had had at our place in several days, so we were dying to see how things were coming along.

Sheldon was there, to Derek's obvious relief, and Casey had already taken off for her own rehearsal, but nobody chased the old people out, so we hung around. We mainly fussed around the kitchen so that we could still hear everything without being too conspicuous.

It was riveting. There was such a transformation from a bunch of goofy, _Spinal Tap_-quoting kids to an actual no-fooling band. Of_ musicians_.

I turned to mush. I sat there, blubbering over my coffee the whole time, while George bounced in his chair, trying not to giggle out loud. He got up and started rooting through the drawers.

"Do we have a lighter in here somewhere?" George asked. He pulled out a matchbook. "This doesn't have quite the same effect, does it?"

I laughed.

When they stopped for a break, George couldn't help himself.

"Freeeeeebiiiirrrrddd!" he yelled. The kids had the decency to laugh.

"Please tell me that I was adopted," Derek said on his way to the fridge. "You found me on the doorstep right?"

"That argument wouldn't hold up in court, son," George said. "Believe me I've tried, but everyone told me I couldn't deny paternity."

Derek laughed. George hugged him.

"Enough mush," Derek said.

"Nope," I said. "Not yet." Then I hugged him.

"What is_ up_ with you two?" he said, scurrying off with his arms full of sodas.

Toward the end, the kids began to relax and mess around. Derek started to play a very familiar old guitar riff. I heard Sam laugh, and I looked up to see Emily smack Derek on the back of his head.

Then Sheldon, with a completely sober look on his face, started to sing "Wanted:Dead or Alive" but soon, even he couldn't suppress his laughter.

"I have been trying to teach Derek that intro since we got him that guitar," George said. "I can't believe he finally nailed it." He turned to grin at me, but looked up at something behind me. I turned to see Casey, staring at the kids in the living room, her eyes coming out of her head.


	14. Chapter 14

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

By The Bucketwoman

Disclaimer: So very many things that I do not own, twinkies, any of Bon Jovi or Tommy Tutone's music, etc...as usual, _LWD_ is among their number.

Chapter Fourteen

Part Thirty-Six: George.

Things had been going too smoothly. There had to be some kind of drama or else it just wouldn't be us, now, would it? The look on Casey's face could have been anything. The first thought I had was: _She's pregnant,_ and my blood pressure went up a good twenty points. Then I thought: _She crashed the car. Or maybe she crashed the car because she found out she was pregnant. My arm will tingle, my chest will hurt, and then there will be sirens. _

"Oh my God, honey," Nora said. "What happened?"

"Huh?" Casey said. Then she shook her head to clear it and blinked a couple of times."Oh, um, nothing...I um..."

Just then Derek came into the room to dump the empty soda bottles into the recycle bin in the laundry room. On his way back in, he opened a cupboard and rooted around until he found the Twinkies. He turned around and was pulled into a hug before he knew what hit him.

"I can't believe how good you are," Casey said, pulling back for a second, then hugging again. Then she burst into tears. "I am so proud of you."

Derek, through all of this stood there stiffly, but his eyes widened. When she let go of him, he looked at her like he'd never seen her before.

"I broke your hugging rule," Casey said, insulted by his total lack of response. "No need to go catatonic. You won't die." Then she went upstairs, one hand over her face.

Needless to say, all the other kids—Sam, Ralph, Sheldon, and Emily were still hanging around the living room, having seen the whole exchange. The boys quickly pretended to be involved in something else and Emily went after Casey.

I turned back to Derek and found him still standing there in that position, the box of Twinkies on the floor where he dropped them.

"Derek," I said. He was this close to worrying me, but he turned to me.

"What?" he asked, turning toward the sink. He reached up for a plastic tumbler and filled it with water. He took a huge gulp, then put the cup down with a shaking hand.

Without another word, he went out the back door. No jacket. Now I had hypothermia to add to my list of worries.

I went to the coat rack, got my jacket and his and went after him. I was halfway down the block, watching him turn the corner when I realized with a twinge of guilt that the others were still standing in the living room with their mouths open.

_One thing at a time_, I thought as I broke into a very ill-advised run. _I am older than old_, I thought. But I caught up with him as he waited at the curb. He waited even though the light was green. He used to get his traffic signals mixed up when he was six, too. He almost stepped off the curb as the light turned red, but caught himself long before he got into the path of a car. For the second time I felt the big one coming on.

Even Nora calls me a hypochondriac. Four teenage kids in a house with you will do that every time, though.

"Derek!" I yelled.

"Sorry," he said, and started walking in the other direction, shaking his head the way I do when I walk into a room and forget what it was I wanted in there.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I said. I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Then I repeated the question.

"Away," he said.

"Put your jacket on," I said. It was cold and a little windy. His exposed skin was already turning red. This he gets from his mother's side of the family. He also sunburns really quickly. He wiggled into the jacket.

"Thanks," he said, and started walking again. I followed.

"Are we there yet?" I asked. No response.

"I'm not really going anywhere, Dad," he said, after another half a block. "You don't need to follow me."

"I could use the exercise," I said. "And maybe if I'm good, we can stop for hot chocolate."

He was in front of me, but I saw the outline of his cheekbone change and the corner of one eye crinkle, so I knew I'd said the magic words.

"With whipped cream," I said.

Part Thirty-Seven: Emily.

"Casey!" I said, pounding on her door for the third time. "Come on already!"

"Hey, Em?" Sheldon said from the top of the stairs. "I'm gonna—" He pointed in the general direction of the front door.

"Okay," I said. I went over to give him a kiss.

"What's Derek doing?" I whispered.

"Went out the back door," Sheldon whispered. "He's flipping out. But his Dad went after him."

"It never ends," I whispered.

"It's pretty entertaining," Sheldon said. "Good luck with this, though. Love you."

"Love you more," I said.

"Couldn't possibly," he said.

"See ya, Casey," he said to her door. I followed him halfway down the stairs and said goodbye to Sam and Ralph as Sheldon helped them carry pieces of drum kit to Ralph's car.

After a minute or so, Casey poked her head out of the door.

"Bout time," I said as she let me in.

We both sat down on the bed. She brought her knees up to her chin.

"So," I said.

"So," she said.

"What happened with Noel?" I asked.

"Noel?" she asked. "What makes you think something happened with Noel?"

So something definitely happened with Noel. If I know her, and I think I do, she was half ready to weep before she even walked in the door. Anything would have set her off. It just happened that she walked in on Derek being super-impressive and the floodgates opened.

"Why would you think that, Em?" she asked.

"Think about it, Casey," I said.

"You _knew_?" she asked.

"_Ev_erybody knew, Case," I said.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" She started crying again.

"So what happened?" I asked. Then I waited for her to calm down a little.

"I just," she began. "It wasn't any big deal. He hugged me at the end of practice, but he's a hugger. He hugged everybody else, so I didn't think anything of it. But I felt eyes on me. Every one of his friends was watching us, and it was weird. I couldn't figure why. Then it hit me. They were waiting to see if he'd...if he'd..."

"Get his mack on?" I asked.

"Yeah," Casey said. "He gave me a little peck on the cheek like he always does, like nothing was out of the ordinary, and walked me to the car."

"So there was no macking," I said.

"Nope," she said.

"Did you want there to be?" I asked.

She shrugged. "No," she said. She looked shocked by what she just said. "No? What the hell is the matter with me? Why would I say no?"

I could think of one reason. One shaggy, loudmouthed, admittedly cute as hell reason. Hey, I got over _my_ crush on his silly ass not that long ago. But this really wasn't the time to share the theory.

"Maybe it's too soon after your breakup with you know who?"

"I don't know," Casey said. "I don't have that much experience with this. I feel like he's a good friend; we get along great. He's cute and charming and completely surrounded by people who clearly love him. You should see how he treats his friends and how they treat him. He's perfect, so I can't figure out why I'm not attracted to him. I should be crazy about him."

"Why beat yourself up about that?" I asked, knowing full well I was in for a couple of hours of this at least.

"I feel bad!" she said. "I can't make _any_one happy. Derek still hates me. Max probably hates me, and now Noel is going to hate me the second he finds out that I'm nothing but a boy-hurting fembot."

I had to bite my lip.

"You're an idiot," I said. "Derek never hated you. Max couldn't be bothered, which was why you dumped him in the first place. And Noel couldn't hate you..." I stopped myself before I said "any more than Derek could." I didn't want to drop any hints about Derek if I could help it. One bombshell a day was enough for her.

There was a knock on the door and Nora peeked in.

"Can I come in?" she asked. "I come bearing Twinkies." Casey waved her in, and she pulled up a computer chair.

We filled her in. Needless to say, she wasn't surprised about Noel either.

"Mom!" Casey yelped. "I can't believe this!"

"You had to figure it out for yourself, sweetheart," Nora said. "You probably wouldn't have believed me if _I _told you."

"Well, no, I wouldn't," Casey said. "Because how would you have seen it? You met him _once_."

"Should I dig up the video of that play to show you the way he looked at you?" Nora asked.

"That was acting!" Casey said.

"Sweetie, he wasn't that good of an actor," Nora said. "And he never took his eyes off of you."

"Oh my God," Casey said, rubbing her forehead. "What do I do now?"

"Well," Nora said. "Seems to me that you can't do anything until he actually makes a move, can you?"

"That's true. I can't, can I" Casey asked, hopeful for a second.

"And the boy will quietly pine for you for the rest of his lonely, miserable, life," I said, unable to stop myself. Must be Sheldon's influence.

Casey turned her big sad, please-make-it-all-go-away eyes on me. As if I knew what to do.

Part Thirty-Eight: Derek.

Dad played the chocolate card, and since I really didn't make any plans past getting the hell out of that kitchen, it sounded like a pretty damn good idea. So we walked to Smelly Nellie's. It was just far enough away to get Dad cursing about how we should've gone back for the car.

But the wind felt really really good. I thought I'd never cool off. The whole time I walked, I kept wondering if Casey got off on torturing me, if she'd found the ultimate mind game. So the cold air was the only thing keeping me from bursting into flames.

When we went inside, the hot,dry air hit us. Dad seemed to enjoy it. I looked around, hoping it was Sally's day off, but no such luck.

"Why are you so _red_?" Sally said, walking up to us. "Hey George."

"How ya doin, Sally?"

"Can't complain," she said. "Who dipped your son in boiling water?"

_Does she even need to ask?_ I thought.

"We went for a walk," I said.

"Yeah," Sally said. "Great walking weather, this."

"You ain't kidding," Dad said.

She led us to a booth, dropped off our menus. "So you guys'll be wanting some popsicles?"

"Couple of hot chocolates with the works?" Dad said, handing the menus back.

"And brownies?" I said.

"Good deal," Sally said. "_Someone's_ depressed," she muttered as she walked away. Having this girl be completely uninterested in me wasn't enough of a blow to my ego. She had to be able to read me, too. Why did I have to be surrounded by women who knew me like a book, but didn't particularly like me? Suddenly they were everywhere.

When she flounced away, Dad put on his litigator face.

"So, son," he said. "Care to tell me why you pulled that dramatic exit back there and made your poor, aging father chase you?"

He's like forty-two. Tom Cruise is older. Who was he kidding?

"I didn't ask you to 'chase me,'" I said, using air quotes. "You 'assumed the risk' of any kind of cardiac mishap thingy when you decided to be nosy."

He hates when I use legalese against him.

"I would have been criminally negligent if I hadn't come after you," Dad said. "Section 867 dash 5309 of the penal code states that if a parent or a legal guardian doesn't pursue a teen who's being melodramatic and the aforementioned teen gets his brains squished because he wanders into traffic, then said parent or legal guardian is liable for any damage and dry cleaning bills that may ensue."

"They use the word 'squished' in the penal code, then?" I asked.

"Did _you_ go to law school?" Dad asked. I refused to laugh.

"So why don't you just tell me what's on your mind," Dad said.

"When is there ever anything on my mind?" I asked. "I'm _Derek_."

"Don't kid a kidder, son," Dad said. "Let's examine the facts, shall we?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," Dad said. "Fact number one: you played the hell out of the Bon Jovi guitar intro that I've been trying to teach you for years. Nora and I fell all over ourselves with pride."

"And have I mentioned how embarrassing that was?"

"That was an added bonus," Dad said. "So where was I? Oh yeah, Nora and I turning to slush. You looked at us funny, but moved on. Then Casey comes in and does the same thing that Nora and I did and you lose your mind. Now what could that mean?"

"Is she milking a cow back there?" I asked. "How long do a couple hot chocolates really take?"

"I heard that, slavedriver! Good chocolate is a science," Sally said, putting the mugs down. "It cannot be rushed. Be right back with the brownies."

"No tip for you!" I said.

"Huge tip for you," Dad said.

"Extra whipped cream for George," she said under her breath.

"I like her," Dad said. "But back to the task at hand. Casey paid you a compliment."

"If you could call it that," I said.

"I think you can put it in the dictionary next to the word 'compliment,'" Dad said. "Right next to 'see effusive praise.' So, as your father, I find it more than a little curious that you reacted the way you did. And then there is your apparent inability to return a little normal affection when she gives it."

"How can you put the words 'Casey' and 'normal' so close together?" I asked.

"Stop trying to avoid the issue," Dad said. "It won't work. Casey said she was proud of you, that you were talented. You couldn't stand it. I can say it because I'm your father and you think I have to. Like it's in the handbook. Same with Nora. But you hold Casey to a higher standard."

He really needed to stop talking.

"All they have is artificial sweetener over here," I said. "Do they think no one likes sugar?"

"Wouldn't it just feel good to admit it?" Dad said.

"Why are you making me talk about this?"

"You need to," Dad said. "Admit that you respect Casey's opinion a great deal, and that you love her."

"Ahem," Sally said. "Sorry to interrupt, guys, but these brownies'll get cold."

"No worries," I said. She put our brownies down, patted me on the back and walked away.

Suddenly I felt a little relieved. This was an "admit you love your sister," kind of a talk. _That_ I could handle.

"If I admit that," I said. "Then she'll think that she got her family moment and think that she can just hug me whenever she pleases and I just think that that's _completely_ unacceptable."

"Are we really gonna play it this way, son?" Dad asked. "Do I have to pry every last shred of information out of you? Because I'll do it. You've seen me do it. I'm really good at it. And I can stay here as long as it takes to get an honest answer out of you. Now what's it going to be?"

"What do you want me to say?" I asked.

"I think I was pretty transparent just then with that whole 'honest answer' thing," Dad said.

"I really don't want to be having this conversation right now," I said. "And that's the God's honest truth."

"Partially, yeah, that is the truth," Dad said. "That much is obvious, but you know as well as I do that we need to have this conversation."

"I know no such thing," I said. My whipped cream had disintegrated. I took a lukewarm sip of the chocolate just to have something to do. It was really good, but I couldn't enjoy it.

"And for the record, Derek, your very avoidance of the subject can be seen as an admission," Dad said. "You should probably know that."

_Dammit_, I thought.

"You've obviously got it all figured out, so what do you need me for?" I asked.

"It's not about what I need," Dad said. "What happened today was no—what was it—'feel good family moment.' A feel good family moment would be Edwin laughing at one of your jokes and you messing up his hair for the umpty-umpth time. If Lizzie had done what Casey did, you would have hugged her back and walked around the rest of the day on a cloud and it would've been okay. But it was Casey, so you panicked. What are you so afraid of? Don't you think you'd feel better if you admitted your feelings?"

"No," I said. "I really don't."

"It won't go away, Derek," Dad said. "And it's not a secret, either. It's been written on your forehead for quite a while, and the print has only gotten bigger with time. Casey herself might need a translation, but no one else can miss it."

"Doesn't matter," I said. "We'll be out of the house soon enough, and I'll never have to deal with it again."

"Except on holidays and the odd weekend?" George said. "In which you will see her and be back to square one. And if you think for one second that you'll go off to university and not come back, you got another think coming, boy. I will track you down and drag you home. So there will be no avoiding her. Ever. In a way, she will always be part of your family. She's not related to you, but there will be a bond of some sort. Now it's up to the two of you to define the bond. So? What's it gonna be? Are you going to spend the rest of your life scared of rejection or are you going to take a shot at it? Worst case scenario, she says no and things are weird for a bit, but that would be better than what you feel now."

I used a butterknife to draw a face onto my brownie.

"Think about it," Dad said.


	15. Chapter 15

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I don't own LWD, Judy Blume's _Freckle Juice_, Paolo Nutini, Radio Shack, MuchMusic or the Elizabeth Barrett Browning poem I reference briefly. Or Starbucks.

Chapter Fifteen

Part Thirty-Nine: Edwin

We spent a couple of hours knocking around the mall aimlessly, with Lizzie trying to decide whether or not she really wanted the Paolo Nutini CD. She picked it up and then she put it down. Then she picked it up again. And put it down again. I ran over and bought it later when she was in the bathroom at Starbucks. Because that's just the kind of guy I am. He he he.

I timed it wrong, though. I guess there was no line this time. She texted me as I was walking back from the music store: _This is a bad habit, Edwin._ Because I always seem to take off on her when we go shopping. Because she tends to get hyper interested in stores that I hope I'm never caught in. Like that store that sells nothing but bath stuff. Seriously, how much soap can one person need? And why would anyone in this world need to smell like basil? So I give her a few minutes to sniff stuff in peace and head over to Radio Shack. To her credit though, she has never once complained about Radio Shack or the comic book place, for that matter. So I guess if she wants to look at handmade blocks of soap with what looks like pieces of brick in it, who am I to complain?

Anyway, this time I let her yell at me for a couple minutes and then pulled out the bag with the CD in it.

"Oh," Lizzie said. I laughed at her. I slung an arm around her and headed to the bath store for my punishment and she stopped us and said something that made the angels sing.

"I need headphones," she said. "What do you think Radio Shack'll have?"

When we got home, the both of us, working off a sugar and shopping high walked into a weirdly quiet house. I expected us to walk into the tail end of a D-Rock rehearsal and have to deal with Derek trying to decide whether he wants to get rid of us or ask our opinions. And if he did ask for our opinions it would have been fun to watch him try to figure out how to ask without it seeming like he really even cared what we thought.

But Ralph's drums were gone and the couch was back in front of the TV. Marti was sitting on the couch, with a book, curled up exactly the way Casey did, Sir Monks-a-Lot and Brian the Bear by her side as she read. She had MuchMusic playing on the TV.

"What's goin on, Smarti?" I asked.

"Smerek and Daddy are out, and Emily, Casey and Nora are upstairs and Casey's crying," she said, shrugging like it was business as usual.

"Uh-oh," Lizzie said. "What happened?"

"Huh?" Marti said.

"Why's Casey crying?" Lizzie asked like she really didn't want to know, but had to ask anyway because it's her sisterly duty. She shut her eyes and braced for the answer.

"Cuz she found out Noel likes her?" Marti said barely looking up from her book. "And she doesn't like him? And she thinks that she's a bad person. So she's having Twinkies."

"Oh," Lizzie said. "I thought it was something serious."

We hung out in front of the TV for a while until Dad and Derek came home.

"Whatcha reading, Marti?" Dad asked.

"A book," Marti said.

"What's it about?" Dad asked.

"Boy wishes he had freckles," Marti said. "This girl tells him to drink a bunch of stuff and she says that it will give him freckles and I think he's stupid enough to do it."

"Well don't ruin the ending for me," Dad said. "I wanna read it after you're done."

"Daddy!" Marti said, rolling her eyes. "Derek said _he_ has dibs."

Speaking of Derek, I noticed after a second that not only had he not kicked me out of his chair yet, he was nowhere to be seen. Then I heard some faint music (and loud bass thumping) from upstairs and knew where he was.

Casey came down with Nora and Emily. Casey was red-eyed, but seemed more or less okay. Emily, who should have been used to this kinda thing by now, looked shell shocked.

"Run outta Twinkies?" Lizzie asked.

"Yeah," Emily said. "And I kinda need to go home and help with dinner. Marti fill you in?"

"Yep," I said. Didn't she always?

"What would you do without me?" Marti asked. Emily reached down and pushed Marti's bangs out of her eyes. Marti grinned up at her.

"Well," Emily said. "I gotta go. Case, you gonna be okay?"

Casey nodded.

"Well, call me later if anything, okay?" Emily said.

"Probably will," Casey said.

"No," Emily said. "You definitely will. And you better."

"Okay," Casey said, hugging her.

Marti swung her legs off the couch to make room for Casey who sat down next to her. Marti handed Brian the Bear to Casey, and, Casey, being the sap head that she is, clutched at that bear for all she was worth.

Not that Brian the Bear wasn't a good guy to have around in a crisis, mind you.

Meanwhile, Derek didn't come down until Dad yelled that dinner was ready. Marti and Lizzie had to bully Casey to the table and when she got there, she toyed with her meatloaf and avoided all eye-contact.

Derek, in the space of about half an hour said exactly three words: "Pass the ketchup." So it wasn't the most comfortable meal, but at least this time it wasn't because Derek and Casey hated each other. There were no eye daggers going back and forth across the table, and neither Dad nor Nora looked ready to ground the both of them.

At that point I'd had yet to find out what Derek's problem was, though, and that was driving me crazy. He was usually so easy to read. I decided to try asking Marti later.

Surprise, surprise, _I_ got stuck with the dishes. But Casey offered to help.

_She must want something_, I thought.

"Edwin?" she asked in this little sheepy voice.

"Yeah?" I said, imitating her. It wasn't easy.

"Don't make fun of me, okay; I'm having a really bad day," she said.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Casey," I said. "What's going on?"

"Don't pretend like you didn't hear it from Marti," she said. "I knew that she was listening at the door after she got back from Naomi's house."

"Yeah, okay, so I did," I said. "But you heard all about the breakdancing incident at Molly Moscovitz's party, so we're even."

She cracked a smile at that.

"Very little can be worse than that," I said. "So? You were going to ask me something? On with it."

"Wanted to know if you and Lizzie were free tomorrow," she said.

"What do you want us to do?" I asked. "If it's illegal I'll have to charge you more."

She really had very little sense of humor that day.

"I need you to get some footage of Noel's band," she said. "You heard the announcement yesterday that Mrs. Zeldin wants a recording of all the bands. Noel said he'd just give her audio, but I figure doing a video is the least I can try to do for him after all the trouble I've put him through."

"_Noel's_ band?" I asked. She was talking like she wasn't in it anymore.

"Yep," she said. "Noel's band. They never needed me for anything. He had a crush on me and figured that this was a good way for us to get to know each other. I can't lead him on and I know that after I tell him that I don't have any feelings for him, he won't really want me around."

"Poogo?" I asked.

"No!" Casey said. "And what the hell do you know about 'Put Out or Get Out'? No he won't kick me out; I don't think he's out to sexually harass me or anything. He'd keep me out of politeness, but they never needed me. They all sing. Every one of them. They all play more than one instrument. There's no reason for me."

_Oh my God_, I thought. _That is the single most depressing thing I have ever heard. _

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Derek said from behind me.

"Derek," Casey said. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

"The hell!" Derek said. "You're not quitting anything. You think that Noel picked you just for your cute ass? Ain't no one about to put up with your crap just for that, 'cause you are _crazy_!"

"I'm not arguing," she said. That seemed to steal his thunder a little, but he kept going.

"And another thing," Derek said. "I have been practicing my ass off for the sole reason of beating you. You will not take that away from me because you wanna be a drama queen. Do you understand? I will beat you. There will be no quitting!"

"Not everything is about you, Derek," Casey said.

"It's not about you, either, Puh-_rincess_," Derek said. "You quit now, you screw that poor crushing on you schmuck over even worse than you would by rejecting him."

"Great, Derek," she said. "Cause I don't feel bad enough or anything."

"Maybe you should," he said. "It'll make you do the right thing."

Casey put her towel down and went upstairs. Derek put his head up against a cupboard.

"That last line was a little too much," I said. " But otherwise, that was really cool."

Derek gave me an "I'll rip your tongue out and tie it around your neck" kind of a look.

"Shut up, Edwin" I said.

"You may be slow, but you do catch on eventually," Derek said.

"Eventually," I said.

"And I need you to film us on Monday," Derek added.

"What's it worth to ya?" I asked.

"You get to live to see Tuesday," Derek said. "And I'll spring for pizza, but only if you do a good job."

"Monday _is_ half a day," I said.

"Yep," Derek said. "What else ya got to do? Homework?"

"Wouldn't wanna do any of that," I said.

"Nope," Derek said.

"Who needs to get into university?" I asked.

"You'll do that in your sleep," Derek said. "But this is _important_."

"Uh-huh," I said. I decided to try something, even though I was sure it wouldn't work.

"So I know why _Casey's_ been in a bad mood," I began. "Why are _you_ in a bad mood?"

"I never said I was in a bad mood," Derek said.

"Is this what you call a happy Derek face?" I asked. "What's going on with you?"

"My little brother's getting on my nerves, but other than that..."

"This from someone who wants something from me," I said, shaking my head.

"I just don't wanna talk about it, okay, Ed?" Derek said. "I've done enough talking for one day."

"Yeah, you let Casey have it," I said.

"Ed," Derek said. "Drop it."

"I mean, I know it was for her own good," I said. "But you usually pull the reverse psychology thing. You know, where you let her put herself down and agree with her until she yells at you and admits that whatever she said wasn't true. I've never seen you do the direct approach before."

"And you see how well it worked tonight," Derek said.

"But it does point toward one thing," I said.

"That I'm an idiot," Derek said. "And that I really _really_ need to go to bed."

"And why would you fight so hard to keep her in competition with you?" I asked.

"To beat her, like I said," Derek said.

"Or to impress her," I said.

"Riiiight," Derek said. "I think you need a nap, too, Ed. I have no need to impress anybody."

I smiled at him. He glared at me.

"I don't care if you believe me or not," he said. Then he stomped off.

Part Forty: Lizzie.

"Casey, what the hell happened today?" I asked after I saw her skulk into her room. She left her door open a little, so I stormed in.

"Lizzie," Casey said, shaking her head. "I am just so hopeless. I don't know how I made such a mess."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"Marti told you about Noel?" she asked.

"Yeah, sorta," I said. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing, really," Casey said. She explained to me what happened and how no one she'd told so far seemed at all surprised. But then she told me something new.

"Then I came home, hoping to take a bath and a nap, but I forgot that Derek was practicing here today. So I came in and they were still at it."

"Yeah?" I said.

"And they're so _good_," she said. "_He's_ so good! I had no idea that he was this great and I wanted to cry because I was so jealous and proud of him and depressed because of what happened with Noel, and you have no idea how talented Noel is, too and suddenly I felt like I was the single biggest no-talent jackass in the world, like Max said I was before I dumped him, but mostly I was so proud of Derek and I wanted to hug him, so I did."

"Whoa!" I said. "Back up the truck. You _hugged_ him?" This was huge. I thought Edwin would die when I told him.

"Yeah," she said. "I hugged him and told him how good he was and he dropped what he had in his hand and stood there like a zombie until I let go of him. He was so disgusted by me that he couldn't even pretend to return the hug. He just stood there. And now he just yelled at me."

"Yeah," I said. "I heard all right. I think they heard him in Toronto."

"He hates me," she said. "He called me selfish and crazy and it's true and he hates me!" And then came the waterworks again.

They were both so stupid. So incredibly stupid.

"Casey," I said. "Look at me. No one hates you, especially not Derek. No shaking your head, you have to hear me out. Did you really tell him how good he is?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Have you ever said anything like this before?" I said.

"No," she said. "Maybe he thought I was making fun of him?"

"No, I don't think so," I said. "I think it just might've freaked him out. You know how weird he can be."

"No, I think I gross him out," she said. "He never lets me hug him. It's not a PDA thing, because he can hug _everyone_ else when the mood strikes him. Just not me."

"If he's so grossed out, then why did he just yell his head off to make you stay with Noel's band and compete against him?" I asked. "When if you'd just quit it would make his life easier?"

"He said it himself," she said. "He wants to trounce me. It's personal. It's hate."

"Casey," I said, shaking my head. "Why would he hate you?"

"I don't know, but he does," Casey said. "God only knows what I said to put him over the edge. And I thought he forgave me."

So at that point I was crying, too.

"What do you think of Derek, Casey?" I asked.

"What?" she asked.

"You heard me," I said. "Answer the question. What do you think of Derek?"

"He's..." she began, then stopped. "Infuriating. He's so smart, but he only does homework if he's threatened. He'll do anything in the world to deny how smart he is so that no one will expect anything from him. He manipulates people and they know that they're being manipulated, but they go along with it anyway, because they know that they'll have fun with him. And when he's really into something he'll work at it until he's the best in the damn world, and he can do it. I can't do half of what he can, but he just doesn't get it, and I wanted him to get it."

"And?" I asked.

"What do you mean, 'and'?" she asked. "That isn't enough?"

"Nope," I said.

"What else do you want me to say?" she asked.

I'd asked the wrong question.

"How do you feel about him?"

"How do I feel about him?" she asked. "I thought I just told you. He drives me crazy. Er. Crazi_er_. Mostly I want him not to hate me."

"Why?"

"Because nobody wants to be hated, Liz?" Casey said. "Jeez!"

I need to ask George how to deal with people who are this damn difficult.

_Know what?_ I thought. _I'm just gonna cut to the chase._

"Do you love him?" I asked.

"Of course I do!" she said. "Don't you love Edwin? And Marti?"

Once again, I'd asked the wrong question. "How do you love him?"

"What, do you want me to count the ways?" she said. _BINGO_, I thought.

"As a matter of fact, yeah," I said.

She was trapped. I wanted to do a happy dance. I'd wanted someone to back her into this corner for two years already and there she was.

"Don't make me say it," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it's a waste of time," she said. "If I say it out loud then you'll know and we'll _both_ be thinking about it and Derek will still be sickened by me, no matter what, so what good will it do if I told you what you want me to tell you?"

"Are you trying to gibberish me into leaving you alone, because it won't work!" I said. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe he's thinking the same thing you are and he's just as nuts as you in his own way so he won't tell you either? Somebody has to tell somebody else _something,_ you damn psychos!"

"Lizzie!"she said. "What?"

"And for the record, Casey," I said. "I do love Edwin, and I've told him, and he's told me. I will not be a time waster like you."


	16. Chapter 16

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Sixteen

Part Forty-One: Casey

I didn't have to be at Noel's until about one o'clock, thankfully. So I was able to get some sleep, even though I didn't pass out until about three am. Mom came and got me around ten. She seemed a little worried, checking my forehead for fever and everything, since usually it's against my religion to get up any later than eight.

"George made a big omelet, so whenever you're ready, you should really eat something," Mom said. She was nice enough to leave it at that, for now at least. I was sick of talking about my feelings.

I showered and put on too much makeup to hide my zombiehood. Lizzie stopped me on the way downstairs, dragging me back to my room to wipe some of the concealer off. The stuff I'd bought was kinda heavy duty, meant more for use in school plays than anything else, and Lizzie seemed both fascinated and really grossed out by it.

"Where did you buy this?" she asked. "Mortuary supply store? Belongs on an extra from _Six Feet Under_!"

"Thanks, Liz," I said. "I needed that."

"Oh please," she said. "No matter what, you're always gonna look better without the goo. With the goo—bad, without—good. All you need to remember."

"I should have guessed there was no hiding these," I said, trying to smooth out the bags under my eyes.

"You're the only one who sees them," Lizzie said. She was totally lying, but I felt a little better.

Derek was still in bed, and I was happy to avoid him. I was almost comforted by his snoring because that meant that he was unlikely to get up until I was safely out of the house.

Not that I was looking forward to going to practice. It's so sad. For the past few days, going to hang out and sing with Noel and his friends was one of the only things I wanted to do, but now even that went into the toilet. I was really going to miss them when they decided that I wasn't worth it.

Edwin tried to make me laugh. First he nuked a hunk of George's omelet and waved it under my nose until I became interested in it. It really did smell good, and I barely ate the night before, so I think I might have gobbled it a little. Not ladylike. Had to stifle a burp and Edwin caught me doing it. Before I had a chance to excuse myself, he pounced.

"There is no excuse for that pathetic little thing," he said and then belched loud enough to rattle the windows.

"Something to strive for," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. She brushed against him on the way to the fridge even though there was miles of room between Edwin and the counter. How did I not notice stuff like that before?

"You know it," Edwin said.

Then he started to practice his impressions for me. He started off slow, showing me his version of his friend Teddy, making up a little monologue about trying to blackmail Edwin into mooning the JV cheerleaders. At least I hoped he made it up.

Then he moved on to Ralph and Sam. At the same time. He turned himself to the left to do Sam and the right to do Ralph. Lizzie choked on her orange juice.

"That's disturbing," I said, smiling for the first time.

"Disturbingly perfect?" he said.

"It's good," I had to admit. "But you're doing Ralph just a tiny bit too much like Keanu Reeves, and Sam doesn't waggle his eyebrows that much. But you're close."

"Umkay," Edwin said. "I'll just have to work on that, then." He kindly spared me his Derek impression, which I knew he'd been working on, for the moment. But he did launch into a really great version of George, the best part of which came when George came up behind him.

"Ahem," George said, arms crossed, one hand tapping the other arm. Edwin jumped.

"Hi Dad," Edwin said. "Didn't see you there."

George tried not to smile. "Obviously you didn't. 'Cause then you'd have noticed that I do _not_ toss my head like that."

"Yeah, you do," Edwin said.

"Yeah, you do," I said.

"No more omelet for you!" Edwin said, as George. George couldn't keep it together. He was ten seconds away from asking Edwin to do it for all his co-workers at his next work party. He gripped the side of the counter as he laughed hard enough to turn his face reddish. Edwin looked over and caught me finally laughing.

"That's more like it," he said, putting my plate back down in front of me. "Now, I'll just go start the car, and whenever you're ready..." He took my keys off of the hook by the cabinets.

That made George laugh harder. "That car better not move an inch until Casey moves it."

"I live to amuse you, Dad," Edwin said. George messed up his hair, took my empty plate and shooed us out the door.

Part Forty-Two: Noel.

"Hey!" Jeff said. "Who let in the Niners!" Casey had brought Lizzie and Edwin over to film us, which made her the queen of the world as far as I was concerned.

"Leave 'em alone, Neanderthal," Lisa said. "They're cute; I wanna keep em in my pocket and brush their hair."

"And knit sweaters for em," Mikey said.

"You know," Edwin said, getting up and pretending to pack up the video camera. "It's talk like that that makes me think you'd be better off with an _audio_ demo."

"Pizza's on me," I said.

"That's more like it" Edwin said, sitting down again. "So why don't you guys tell me about this thing you got going here. What image would you like to project?" He made a square with the thumb and index fingers of both hands, framing Lisa and pretending to zoom in. She giggled. Lizzie smacked him. Not hard to see who was boss.

"We wanna be in focus," I said. "That's our main goal."

"And no heads cut off," Jeff said.

"Hey, Casey," Edwin said. "You really expect me to work under these conditions?"

"I'll give you a cookie," Casey sing-songed.

"Oh, okay," Edwin said. "Can we kill that overhead light and turn some lamps on, maybe open the blinds?"

The kid really knew what he was doing. We decided to do my solo—"Lover, You Should've Come Over," first Edwin _positioned_ me in front of the mic because, according to him, the damn thing blocked half my face. Not something I ever would have thought about.

"Most people wouldn't complain about that," Mikey said. I flipped him off.

"Nobody cares if a singer is funny looking," Edwin said.

"That's good to know," I said. "There's hope for me yet."

"No there ain't," Mikey said.

"But they still don't trust you if they don't see you," Edwin said.

"Edwin!" Casey said.

"Good point," I said.

"And go ahead and look at the camera if you like. Pretend it's the audience," Edwin said. "'Cause the more you try to pretend it's not there, the twitchier you'll be. Speaking of twitchy, Casey, move up a little."

"Have fun walking home today, Edwin," Casey said.

"I guess it's a step up from riding over here in the trunk," Edwin said.

He hit a button on the camera, and said, "Okay, go 'head."

So we did.

I'd never felt so watched in my entire life, and it wasn't because of the camera. Okay, so maybe it was the camera a little. I was in the presence of an audience of two teenagers who'd been bribed into being there, and I was still terrified.

"So?" I squeaked. "What'd you think? Any suggestions?"

"Nope," Edwin said.

"No?" Casey asked.

"As someone who is related in one way or another to two people in two separate bands competing against each other, I have decided to remain neutral. Like Switzerland," Edwin said.

"So you'll pretend to be uninvolved, but secretly profit from both sides?" Lisa asked.

"Who said anything about it being a secret?" Edwin asked.

"You are so full of it," Lizzie said. "You tell Derek exactly what you think!"

"No, I tell him what he wants to hear," Edwin said. "Because I like my nose where it is."

Lizzie, Casey, and Lisa gave him identical dirty looks.

"Okay, okay," Edwin said. He picked up the little camera and turned to me. "Dude, you are such a fraidy cat. This camera is your friend. It will not bite you. In fact, I'll tell you what—it's a girl, most beautiful girl in the world, got it?"

"Yeah _that'll_ get him to loosen up," Jeff said. "Whatever you do, don't tell him to picture the girl in her underwear, 'cause he'll die on the spot." 

"How'd you get through that play?" Edwin asked. Funny he should ask.

"I dunno," I said. "Inspiration hit. I found something else to focus on." I heard a snort from somewhere behind me. Jeff. I decided I would be killing him later.

"Inspiration, huh?" Edwin said. "Well, I dunno if you're gonna find the _same_ muse, but maybe you can inspire yourself?"

"_Inspire_ myself?" I asked.

"How did I know you guys were gonna go there?" Lizzie asked.

"Because your mind is just as dirty as the rest of ours," Lisa said.

"Yeah," Lizzie said. "That's probably it. But anyway, Edwin has no social skills."

"Hey," Edwin said.

"But I think I can translate" Lizzie said. "You're good."

"Why, thank you," I said.

"You know how good you are, so be confident about that. No need to be nervous." She said all of this in her own shrugging, matter of fact way, and it made me turn all kinds of red.

"Wow," Edwin said. "I said _all that_? I'm _good_."

"Keep it up and I won't even prop the trunk lid open on the way home," Casey said.

"Derek is rubbing off on you more and more each day, ya know?" Edwin said.

"That is so not the way to get into my good graces. You know that right?" Casey said.

"Well," Edwin said. "How bout this: we do your song next and show Timid Boy how to work the camera?"

"Trying to say I'm a ham, Edwin?" Casey asked.

"If the pineapple rings fit," Edwin said. She smacked the back of his head.

"Meanwhile, you should see what happens when someone puts the camera in front of Edwin," Casey said.

"Busted," I said.

"We hams know our own," Edwin said, shrugging. "So okay, you ready? Go."

I scrambled over to the keyboard, bumping my hip into it and having to steady it. Then I started her intro.

Casey started to sing and I couldn't even stand how perfect she was. She looked at the camera with total confidence, like she was having an ordinary conversation. She was completely natural and...just so damn gorgeous that I had to force myself to pay attention to the keyboard before I lost my place. Plus, she got into the song to the point that she was crying a little by the end. And so was almost everyone else. I couldn't wait to see the playback.

But by the end I was a shaky mess, too, so Edwin took the opportunity to turn to me and say, "See? Now that's all you gotta do for _your_ song. Nothing to it. You ready?"

"Are you kidding me?" I asked.

"What?" Edwin said. Lizzie shook her head. She does a lot of that. "Need a break?" Edwin asked.

"Um, yeah," I said. "I think a break would be good."

I went and ordered the pizzas. People scattered throughout the kitchen, and the living room. I went back down to the basement and found that Lizzie was still there, messing with the camera.

"Did you order?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. She reached into her pocket to chip in, and I stopped her.

"You got dragged over here, the least you can do is enjoy some free food," I said.

"I didn't have to be dragged," she said. "I wanted to see what you guys were all about."

"Like what you see?" I asked.

"So far so good," she said.

"So Casey doesn't seem to be in the best mood, today," I said.

"Hmmm," Lizzie said. "There was drama last night. You don't wanna know."

"Anything I can do?" I said. What an idiot I can be sometimes.

"No," Lizzie said.

"Yeah," I said. "I figured. But I guess I just don't like seeing her sad."

"You really do like her," Lizzie said.

"It's really obvious, I know," I said. "Think she's picked up on it yet?"

"Yeah," Lizzie said. She looked everywhere but at me.

"But she's not having it, is she?" I said.

"No," she said.

I nodded. "Can't win em all," I said.

"Listen," Lizzie said. "It's just because there's someone else, okay? It's not you. You would've been perfect for her."

"Thanks," I said. "But you don't have to make me feel better."

"Are you okay?" Lizzie asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll live."

"Because I'm really sorry I said anything," Lizzie said. "It wasn't my place to even open my mouth, but..."

"I asked," I said.

"I still should've sent you to talk to Casey herself," Lizzie said.

"Nah," I said. "You just spared me all kinds of humiliation, I think."

"Why?" Lizzie said. "I told you. You would've been perfect if not for..." She stopped herself and shook her head to clear it. "—if not for the other guy."

"That doesn't do me much good," I said. "But thanks anyway, I guess."

"Uh huh," Lizzie said. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh yeah," I said. "Nothing some pepperoni won't cure."

She laughed. "Where've I heard that before?"

"Edwin?" I asked.

"And Derek," she said. "Always in the mood for food." 

So after my three or four slices, we started up again. We went for "Lover, You Should've Come Over," again, which was exactly the kind of tearjerker I did not need, but I got through it. Barely. Lizzie had the camera for this take, and she stayed right on me.

And we still had one more song to get through. The duet.

_Kill me now_, I thought.

This time, we stuck to our own microphones, neither one of us felt much like sharing.


	17. Chapter 17

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own _Life with Derek_. I don't own any of the songs I mention either, except as legally purchased copies for my personal, non-commercial use.

Chapter Seventeen

Part Forty-Three: Lisa

"You're pissed," I said. Noel was doing that thing where he chews the hell out of his lower lip. It would be bleeding any second. He only did that when he was mad, but trying not to be.

"Nope," he said. Everybody else had left, Jeff having been the last holdout. He shot me the "see what you can find out" look, nodding at Noel behind his back on his way out the door. I guessed it was my turn. We had to play detective a lot with this one. He wasn't much for volunteering information.

"Why don't you just tell me what happened?" I asked. "Casey turn you down?"

"Nope," he said.

"Then what?" I asked. "You gotta help me out, here. You know that as your friend I'm just gonna hound you until you tell me what it is, so why don't you just save us both the time and energy and spill."

"I'm not mad," Noel said. "I'm not in the best mood, but not exactly what you'd call pissed."

"Are we gonna play twenty questions here, babes?" I asked. "Do you feel bigger than a breadbox? Are you animal, vegetable or mineral? Are you sure this doesn't have anything to do with Miss Casey?"

"Clever the way you slipped that in there," Noel said.

"I thought so too," I said. "Okay, so you're not pissed, but you are unhappy. Tell me why."

"I'll get over it," he said. It's really a good thing, depending on how you look at it."

"Uh-huh," I said. "I'm not looking at a happy Noel, though. Stop beating around the bush and tell me what the hell it is already?"

"Okay, slavedriver," he said. "Jeez! I was talking to Lizzie and she basically told me how obviously I was crushing and not to waste my time with Casey."

"Ouch," I said.

"Naw, she was nice about it," he said. "She said someone else beat me to it, is all."

"Did she say who?" I asked.

"No," he said. "And I didn't ask. I figure as long as it's not that douche Max, it's okay."

"But you're not curious?"I asked.

"No," he said. "I figure we'll find out eventually anyway."

"And you're sure you're not mad?" I asked. "It's okay to be a little pissed you know."

"Positive," he said. "Teeny bit depressed, but I'll live. It's not like I have anything to be mad at. Nobody did anything wrong. If anything I should be grateful that I didn't make a fool of myself."

"You wouldn't have made a fool of yourself," I said. "How could you have made a fool of yourself? By asking a girl you like out for coffee or something? Not exactly as bad as slipping on a banana peel, or wearing a skirt to school in a snowstorm."

He laughed. Reminding him of the time I slipped in a slush puddle getting off the bus got him every time. I thank God that it happened before he got his camera phone.

"I do have sense enough not to wear a skirt in a snowstorm," Noel said. "But then again, I don't have your legs. Maybe if I did, I'd consider it."

"Flattery will get you everywhere but off this subject," I said.

"Curses," he said. "Foiled again. Like I said. I'm okay, seriously."

"If you're sure," I said.

"I am, Mom," he said.

"And I told you about that Mom stuff," I said.

"Would you prefer Mami?"he asked.

"Maybe," I said. "So how bout you walk me home, Papi?"

"You live two houses down," he said.

"What's your point?" I asked. "I could get kidnapped between here and there."

"Uh-huh," he said. "'Cause I'd scare a _squirrel_ away." He held out my jacket for me and I wiggled into it. Then he held his door open and bowed as low as he could. Stupid chick didn't know what she was missing.

Part Forty-Four: Casey.

I had to pull over.

"Oh my God, Lizzie," I said, putting the car in park in front of the donut shop and covering my eyes. "Just oh my God! Why?"

"He asked," she said.

"You didn't have to tell him!" I said.

"You would've let him hang until the end of the world, Casey!" she said.

"I would not have!" I said.

"Yeah, you would've," Edwin said from the backseat.

I turned around in the car and glared at him. "Did I ask you?"

"I volunteered," he said. He seemed pretty satisfied with himself.

"The point is," Lizzie said. "He asked me, and I didn't think it was fair to lie to him, when I knew the truth full well. He's not stupid, Casey. He figured it out, pretty much."

"He did?" I asked.

"He did," Lizzie said. "He saw that you weren't into him. What was I supposed to do, lie and pretend that you were?"

"Oh, God," I said. "Was he upset?"

"Should I show you the videotape?" Edwin said. "You were standing right there. You didn't see? 'Course he was upset. But he'll get over it."

"Why does everything I touch turn to crap?" I asked. I turned to face front again. Edwin undid his seatbelt and climbed forward so that he was in between us.

"Stop being such a damn drama queen," Edwin said. "He's not about to jump off a bridge because you don't want to go out with him."

"Why do you have to make it sound like I'm so evil because I'm upset about this?" I asked. "I'm not trying to say that I'm so damn special. I'm upset because Noel is a great guy and a good friend to me, and I don't want to hurt him! Do you really think I'm sitting here thinking that it's all about me? Is that what you think, Edwin?"

Edwin got infuriatingly calm. "That's not what I said," he said. "Or anyway that's not what I meant."

"Then why don't you enlighten me," I said. "What did you mean?"

"I was trying to say," he began. "That you need to relax. Everything has to be huge with you. You're acting like the world is ending because you had to turn someone down. Happens all the time, all over the world. People don't usually die when it happens. Look at _me_. I've been turned down _millions_ of times. _I'm_ still alive. And I don't think a single girl felt guilty about telling me to go to hell."

"And have you ever had to turn anyone else down?" I asked. "Especially someone who should be perfect for you?"

"_I _wouldn't be stupid enough to turn down someone who's perfect for me," Edwin said. "And there's no such thing as 'should be perfect.' I mean, would it kill you to trust your instincts?"

"My instinct would have been to give him a chance," I said.

"In that case," Edwin said. "Don't follow your instincts, 'cause you're just nuts."

"And now we're back to how crazy I am," I said.

"I say it with love," Edwin said. And he grinned at me until I had to smile back.

"So, Case," he said. "Funny you should stop in front of a donut place, hmmm? I think there might be a chocolate cream with my name on it."

"How could you eat those?" I asked.

"Very easily," Lizzie said, undoing her seatbelt and opening her door. "Want?"

"It'll...spoil dinner," I said, my resolve weakening because the smell of sugar and fried dough was beginning to waft into the car.

"You know, people say that, but I can't remember _ever_ having spoiled my appetite," Edwin said. "Ever. In History."

"Me neither," Lizzie said.

I was upset before, but by the time we got home, I was upset and fighting a sugar high at the same time. To make matters worse, there was acoustic guitar playing coming from somewhere upstairs. The acoustic, I thought, belonged to George, but it was starting to look like the torch had been passed. Edwin, who had closed the door gently, stood in the doorway and listened for a second, then reopened and slammed the door.

And suddenly there was silence.

"Gotta give a dude some warning," Edwin said, by way of explanation.

And down came Derek, trying to look like he just woke up, because God forbid we should have caught him practicing or anything. He ran a hand through his hair and curled up into his recliner, grabbing the remote and flicking on the TV.

"'Sup?" he said finally after he was done arranging himself. Edwin snorted as Derek flipped through channels looking for something sports-related, no doubt. Lizzie, who'd been facing me, crossed her eyes, but then put on a completely straight face as she sat on the couch. Edwin joined her. Then, he patted the spot next to him, but I muttered something about a pile of homework that I didn't really have and went upstairs.

Part Forty-Five: Derek.

"Must you?" I asked.

"Yep," Edwin said.

After Casey went upstairs (running like her ass was on fire), Edwin stretched out on the couch and Lizzie curled up next to him. They couldn't have been closer if they were sharing a sweater.

"Do I need to go get the hose?" I asked. They shuffled maybe a centimeter apart.

"Ahem," I said.

"If you're getting a cold, stay the hell away from me," Edwin said. I got up and wiggled in between the two of them on the couch.

"Bitter, much?" Lizzie asked as she got up and stalked off. I really miss them being afraid of me.

Edwin started to get up, too, but I grabbed him around the waist, pulled him back, and held him down for a second. He wiggled out of my grasp.

"What is your problem?" he asked.

I couldn't think of a good answer. I was just acting on instinct. The words "Leave room for the Holy Ghost" ran through my head on a loop.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

"Tell you what?" Edwin asked.

"You know what," I said. "What's going on with the two of you?"

"We were trying to watch TV," Edwin said.

I gave him such a look. "You know what I mean, Ed. The two of you have something going?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Don't you think that this is something I should know about?" I asked.

"Now you do," Edwin said. "It wasn't a secret. Did you expect me to send you a telegram? Take an ad out in the Chronicle? Not really my style."

"Do Dad and Nora know?" I asked.

"Dunno," Edwin said. "Maybe; maybe not. It hasn't been that long, really."

"You sure this is a good idea?" I asked.

"Yeah," Edwin said. "As a matter of fact...it's one of our better ones."

"Are you trying to piss me off?" I asked.

"No," Edwin said. "It's just a talent I have. You're just mad because I did something that you want to do."

"You think I want to spoon with Lizzie?" I asked.

"Not with _Lizzie_, no," Edwin said. "By the way, it's not a good idea to introduce cutlery into the conversation because I might say that you don't want to _spoon_ Casey but you definitely want to—"

"Don't even _think_ of finishing that sentence," I said.

"Although to be fair, you'd be into the spooning thing, too," Edwin said. "So why don't you just go talk to her, so you don't have to walk around here all pissed at everything?"

"Probably better if I keep my mouth shut for a change," I said.

"No," Edwin said. "This might be the one and only time that you shouldn't keep your mouth shut."

"Why?" I asked. "What if I just laid low for a bit until she goes off with that Noel kid?"

"What good would that do?" Edwin asked. "You'd still be unhappy, and anyway she has no intention of going off with Noel, and even _he _knows it."

"She's not into him?" I asked. "He's...like...perfect for her."

"Yeah, that's what she said," Edwin said. "Or actually, what she said was that he 'should have been perfect.' See, that implies that he's not perfect. I actually kinda had to explain that to her before, so you know, it's fresh in my mind."

"Casey, you idiot," I mumbled.

"I am just so sick of the both of you," Edwin said. He said that type of thing a lot lately. It was getting to be a real Edwin-ism.

He left me sitting there.

I thought that that would be the worst of it, but the next day, I was getting it from all sides. Someone apparently told Emily, and when you tell Emily, you tell everyone else in the world by extension. I might have mentioned it before, but Emily Davis's mouth is so big. How big is it, you ask? It's as big as all outdoors.

The next day at school she gives me this "I'm so disappointed in you" look. Then Ralph gives me the same look. Then Sheldon. Then Sam. Of course, Sam takes the opportunity to remind me that he's used to this type of thing from me.

"'Cause you've only been crushing on Casey since you met her, but, you know, we won't let that stop you from never _ever_ making a move," Sam said.

"Good," I said.

Then there was band practice with Edwin and Lizzie and the camera. And all I could think was, _why, oh why can't we do this any other day?_ But we needed to do it and hand it to Mrs. Z asap, so we were stuck.

And the funniest part is that Sheldon chose this moment to manipulate the hell out of me.

We'd done Emily's song (Linkin Park's "What I've Done." Sheldon almost died when she picked it. Thought it was the hottest thing he'd ever heard.) and it had gone off without a hitch. Then we did "This is How a Heart Breaks," and there was more flirting between Emily and Sheldon. I was actually hoping that that would count in our favor, because everyone but me seemed to think that they were cute.

But then the ballad came. I'm ashamed to say that it had been my idea to do this older than old Smokey Robinson song. Call it a lapse in judgment, but everybody ate it up back when I'd suggested it. So I figured, nice, old-school romantic thing that Sheldon could do in his sleep.

Except freakin Sheldon didn't want to freakin do it suddenly.

"I just think that it's kinda boring coming from me," he said.

"So what," I said. "Do you wanna go back to the Cure? Or the Bon Jovi?"

"No, we should _still_ do the song," Sheldon said. "I'm just thinking that maybe someone _else_ should sing it."

"Okay," I said. "Em?"

"Not Em," he said. "And before you hyperventilate, Sam, not you either."

"Oh okay," Sam said. "Shut up, Ralph."

"Dude, I didn't say anything," Ralph said.

"You were thinking it," Sam said.

"I wasn't thinking anything," Ralph said, grinning. "I try not to do that too much."

Sam laughed at him, then hit him with his own drumsticks. Sheldon ignored this and raised an eyebrow at me.

"No, no, no" I said. "_Hells_ no."

"Yeah," Sheldon said.

"Do you _want_ to lose?" I asked.

"Please," Sheldon said. "This is _me_ you're talking to. I have no intention of losing."

"Funny way of showing it," I said.

"How bout you go through it once, and we watch the playback," Sheldon said. "If everybody hates it, we switch back to me."

"Guys," I said to Lizzie and Edwin. "Help me out here. You guys don't want to hear me sing, do you?"

"Don't care," Edwin said. "As long as you follow through with the pizza."

"Lizzie?" I asked.

"Just get it over with, already?" she said. "We're here to observe, not comment."

"Do you really think I'd steer you wrong?" Sheldon asked. "As probably the only person, besides Casey, who is more psychotically competitive than you are, I think that I can be trusted."

"I am so gonna get you for this," I said.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sheldon said. "Let's go."

Edwin cracked a smile and I heard Sam snort behind me. I turned around to see Sam smile and wave at me. The picture of innocence. The ass.

So I had to do the song. I put down my electric guitar, picked up my Dad's acoustic and went into it. My voice cracked like hell on the bridge, but I kept going. It was _their_ ears after all. Then, after what felt like a year, I was done.

And there was dead terrifying painful never-ending silence.


	18. Chapter 18

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Eighteen

Part Forty-Six: Emily.

It took a couple of minutes for me to turn from the wobbly mess I'd become into a rational articulate human being again. I grabbed a tissue out of my pocket and honked into it, breaking this wall of silence that had built up.

Derek, who'd been sitting across from me on the couch, looked up at my honk and seeing that I was a weepy pile of goo, backed away a little. I caught Ralph rubbing at one eye and Sam trying not to smile, really putting an effort into pulling the corners of his mouth down, but the boy's eyes gave him away. Pick your cartoon image—dollar signs, three cherries in a row, flashbulbs—they all fit the look on Sam's face. Sheldon leaned against the wall and grinned at me around the thumbnail he'd been chewing on. I could read his mind: _Was I right or was I right_, was what he was thinking.

"Will somebody friggin say something?" Derek asked. How he could sound so damn nervous after that, I don't know, but I guess he fit the "last to know" profile pretty well.

I looked at Sheldon like, _say something_, and he took the cue and said, "Okay, so we should do that again. You cracked like an egg during the bridge, so here's what you should do for now, for the tape, and we'll figure it out later." Then he sang the line and made Derek imitate him.

Edwin was getting all of this on tape, and clearly enjoying it. It was kinda fun watching Derek get shell-shocked. Pun intended.

Edwin took his nose away from the little viewfinder screen just long enough to wink at Lizzie, who was still a little saucer-eyed. She turned to him like she was surprised to run into him in the Twilight Zone.

"Um, Babe?" Sheldon said.

"Hmmm?" I said.

"I was just wondering if you were ready," Sheldon said. "Need a sec?"

"Yes," Derek said. "I think we should all take...a week..."

"Ready when you are," I said.

We decided to rearrange the song on the fly. Sam got Derek to put down the acoustic guitar and pick up the electric. Sheldon loved this.

"Oh my God. It could be like the opening to 'Hallelujah!'" Sheldon said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Slow it down a little..."

"Postal Service type drums on the chorus," Sheldon said.

"Don't they use a drum machine?" I asked.

"I should wash your mouth out!" Ralph said. "Drum machine! But I know whatcha mean, kinda stuttery?" He demonstrated. Sheldon nodded.

"You know I wasn't really suggesting that we use a drum machine, right, Ralphie?" I asked.

"Whatever, Yoko," he said, pretending to be offended.

"I throw myself on your mercy," I deadpanned. "How can I make it up to you?"

"I could use a hug," Ralph said. I laughed. Sheldon smirked. He knew better than to think there was any threat, but when the kid bent me over the arm of the couch, Sheldon did that thing where he took two fingers, pointed at his own eyes then pointed at Ralph. Which broke the spell on Lizzie and got her laughing.

Edwin reached over to the keyboard and played four quick notes with one finger: Dun, dun, dun, duuuuun. Beethoven. Sheldon one upped him, hitting a button, then playing the theme to _High Noon_.

"Good one," Edwin said.

"Thank you," Sheldon said.

"Shouldn't the two of you be doing this with banjos?" Derek asked.

"Okay, I can take a hint," Sheldon said. "Back to business."

"That's not what I was saying," Derek said.

"Too late," Sheldon said, grinning. He was so cute, standing there bouncing like a little kid. His enthusiasm was contagious, and I loved when he took me along for the ride. He could get me to do the dorkiest things with him, just with the sheer power of his giggle. Seriously. I try to resist, but next thing I know, there I am, at the Renaissance Fair or something.

"You know you want to," Sheldon said.

"Nuh-uh," Derek said.

"Uh-huh," Sheldon said.

"Before this turns into 'I know you are, but what am I,' we should probably run through the song, then record it, so we can have some food, don'tcha think?" Sam said.

"Sounds like a plan," Sheldon said.

"Ass," Derek said, picking up his guitar and tuning it a little.

Part Forty-Seven: Sam.

Sheldon has the _power_. I had never seen anything like this in my life. First, he knew better than to give Derek praise of any kind, because the kid couldn't take a real compliment without getting weirded out. The incident with Casey and the hugging was only one example of that. Instead Sheldon hopped right in with suggestions, and Derek went right along.

The fact is, none of us could believe how good Derek was. Not as good as Sheldon, obviously, but still. No matter what Sheldon said about his version being boring, he knocked it out of the park, vocally. But that wasn't the point. Derek was perfect for the song, with his high, creaky voice.

"Dude, you're a tenor, deal with it. I'd kill for your upper range," is what Sheldon said whenever Derek tried to hide it. Of course, Derek wished he had a deeper, more Sheldonish voice. It was exactly like curly-haired women who wanted straight hair and straight-haired women who wanted it curly. No one was ever satisfied with what they had.

And Derek wasn't used to singing. Ever. And it showed. That's why it worked. When Edwin went to film us, he ended up zeroing right in on the top of Derek's head because he refused to look up the whole time. I saw the playback. The boy rocked it, even if he did look a little like he wanted to hide under the couch.

We got it done before the rest of Derek's family got home, thankfully. I didn't want to imagine how fast he'd clam up in the presence of Nora. Or Marti. Or _especially_ Casey. We were lucky that he was doing it in front of Lizzie and Edwin.

We had a little bit more time to work on that though.

"You'll be fine, Derek," Emily said, gesturing at the microphone. "After all, this is just the plastic thingee on the end of a jump rope."

She patted him on the shoulder.

Part Forty Eight: Paul

I was on my way out on Wednesday when Katie Zeldin persuaded me and whoever else was still hanging around into the Teacher's Lounge. By persuaded I mean dragged by the back of the collar.

"This..." she said, gesturing dramatically at the TV/DVD player combo she'd wheeled in.

"This," I repeated. "Is...what?"

"Well, it's just something that we all must see, that's all," she said. I saw Nilda Sanchez roll her eyes behind Katie's back.

"Magic's about to happen," Mike Gilmour said dryly, from the coffee machine.

"You say that like you really don't believe it," Katie said.

"Weeeeell," Mike said. "Since we're about to help you screen some teenagers for a Clash of the Bands that is famous for its _accordion_ players, I think it's fair to say that, no, I _don't_ believe it."

"Ye of little faith," Katie said. "Aren't you even a little bit curious to see if there's the next Rolling Stones buried in here somewhere?" She gestured to the small pile of discs on the table in front of her.

"I'm still here," Mike said sighing.

"I guess I'll take that in the short run," Katie said. "So let's see who's first." She covered her eyes and reached into the pile, pulling one out.

"'Moose and Squirrel,'" she said, reading the jewel box. She shrugged and popped it in. Generic punk, tone-deaf singer. They didn't last through a whole song. She hit eject.

"Should we put them in the maybe pile?" Katie said. She frisbeed it across the room, so I think she was kidding.

"The Well Puppies," Nilda read off the next jewel box, smiling at the name.

"That's cute," Katie said, putting the disc in. "Here's hoping..."

They weren't bad; we listened to them do a Green Day cover, and oddly enough, an old Dion and the Belmonts song. One of them was in my computer graphics class this semester.

"Now we're talking," Mike said. "What else ya got?"

"Hand-Painted Periwinkles," Katie said. She put it in. Girl group, competent pop-folk. I recognized two of the four. Went into the yes pile with the 'Puppies. One other band—The _Other_ London, they were called, got frisbeed and went to join Moose and Squirrel in the gulag behind the sofa on the other side of the lounge. Katie let me do the honors this time.

"Arrogant Chicken," Nilda said, picking up another disc. She was really starting to enjoy the names these kids were coming up with.

"Oooh," Katie squee'd. "It's Noel! He's just a doll. He was my Deckhand Hart last spring." She was referring to her exquisite (ly painful) musical _Yo Ho Hip-Hop_.

"Hmmm," Mike said. "Didn't get to see that one." He didn't seem too upset about that. "And that's Casey McDonald."

"My Maid Marina!" Katie said, bouncing in her seat. For the first time, the four of us sat in front of the screen, rapt. Not a single wisecrack to be heard as the kid sang the single saddest song in the free world and then Casey sang the second saddest. Then, perhaps sensing the state of their audience, pulled out something bouncier.

"Yes pile?" I asked.

"_God_, yes," Katie said.

"I always liked No-_el_," Nilda said, putting the Spanish spin on his name. "His accent hurts my ears in my class, but I like him all the same."

After that, one more disc got the toss of doom and Katie picked up another.

"D-Rock," she said to groans of pain from the rest of us.

"This should be fun," I said. "Pop it in, turn it up, then do our best Simon Cowell, or Zack Werner."

"That was bloody awful," Mike said, practicing his Simon Cowell impression.

"Do I get to do the frisbee this time?" Nilda asked.

Katie gave us a dirty look, then popped it in.

Then Katie and Nilda squealed anew at the presence of Sheldon Schlepper.

"Love that kid," Katie said.

"Me too," Nilda said.

The first song began, and it became clear that someone's been practicing. A lot. There might've been a little dancing in the Teacher's Lounge then. Just maybe. The second song, this time led by Emily Davis, followed close on its heels, to more dancing on our parts.

Then, the shock of our lives:

Derek Venturi. The loudest most frustrating kid to ever haunt a high school teacher, and there he was singing "The Tracks of My Tears" and he wasn't even mangling it a little.

"Ay Dios Mio," Nilda said.

"Ditto," Mike said.

"I knew it," Katie said. Everyone turned to her.

"Huh?" I asked.

"I knew it," she repeated. "I mean, have you _met_ the kid? I _knew_ this was in him._ I_ couldn't get it out of him, but someone did. I'd love to know who..."

"_Had_ to be a girl," Mike said. Nilda nodded.

And I knew exactly which girl. I wasn't about to tell, though.

"Casey," Nilda said. I choked on my coffee.

"Jeez," Mike said, shaking his head. "Ever had the two of them in class together? Last year in my junior Math? Never ending fun. I think I should've bought stock in Mylanta for all that I used."

"That poem in the school paper?" Katie asked. "'Stinky Feet?' Funny way of flirting, but flirting it was."

I hadn't thought of it that way, but it was true. I always wanted to bring up the all important question with Casey during one of our sessions, ask her why her stepbrother always seemed to be at the front of her mind. Lately I haven't had much of an opportunity, because she only wanted to talk about universities and how she could make herself look more desirable to the admissions offices.

Needless to say, she's mentioned that her first choice is a school without a hockey team. The very fact that she'd bring that up as one of her criteria of judgment speaks volumes. A couple of weeks ago, I asked her if maybe she wasn't limiting herself by automatically excluding places with sports teams.

"Why are you so keen to avoid hockey?" I asked.

"The whole mindset," she said. "Look at this school. If you're not a hockey fan, you have to be a football fan, if you're not a football fan, then it has to be basketball. If not basketball, then you just don't exist. Everybody's so fixated on sports that there's no room for anything else. The money goes to sports teams and cheerleaders before it goes anywhere else. We had no budget for the school play last year. And somehow my Mom still ended up organizing a fun fair just to raise more money for the teams, 'cause God knows they needed it."

"Most schools are like that," I said. "My high school was all about basketball, too. I was too short for the team..."

"That's really interesting, but you see my point that I want to go someplace a little more democratic right?" Casey asked.

"So why did you specifically mention wanting to avoid hockey, as opposed to say, lacrosse or crew, or water polo..." I asked.

"No reason," Casey said. "It was just one example."

"You realize, don't you, that funding for other programs and scholarships mostly come from alumni who, as strange as it may seem, like their sports, and are happiest and most generous when their alma mater's teams are winning," I said.

"I know it, but I don't have to like it," she said.

I got her to grudgingly apply to some of the other schools I recommended, one or two with huge hockey teams.

Part Forty-Nine: Casey.

Noel knew me by now, so the next rehearsal after Lizzie's big reveal, nobody would let me get a word in edgewise so that I couldn't try to quit again. I took it as a hint that they still wanted me, and for once I was honest with myself about how much I wanted to be there.

I really _really_ wanted to be there. I mean, I couldn't believe how welcome they still made me feel, even Lisa, who seemed protective of Noel and by all rights should have kicked my ass already. There wasn't any big catharsis, like I was hoping there would be between me and Noel, because it's healthy to hash things out, but things still seemed okay.

Plus, we were just that much closer to winning, because Mrs. Zeldon called Noel to let him know that we'd made the cut on Thursday night. He called everyone else to give us the news and also to give us the day off on Friday because we would be working our asses off all weekend.

Derek got the call, too. I heard him on the phone with his people, also giving them Friday off.

"Yeah, Sam, enjoy the rest because there will be no more until we win," Derek said.

I giggled behind him and he jumped about a foot off the ground and whirled around in midair. It was like _The Matrix_.

"Uh, can I help you?" Derek said, voice cracking.

"It's so _cute_ that you still think you're gonna win!" I said.

"Keep practicing the trash talk," Derek said. "Someday you'll get the hang of it."

"Like some day you'll get to learn more than three chords?" I said.

"I'd give that one maybe a two on a scale of one to ten," Derek said.

"When did you learn to count to ten?" I asked.

"Oh about a week or so ago," Derek said. "I'm guessing right about the same time you killed Covington's soul with your girl music."

"Yeah, keep laughing," I said. "It's just that some guys understand that the way to a girl's heart is through showing some sensitivity. Call it 'girl music' or call it 'works every time' music."

"I'd love to meet someone that this 'works every time' music of which you speak has actually worked for." Derek said.

"Ask Emily," I said walking away. "_She_ might know someone."

"Huh?" he asked. "Oh. But Schlepper tends to be the exception to the rule, so you can't use him as an example."

"I just did," I said.

"That don't make it right," Derek said.

"Yeah," I said. "'Cause that's not why you picked him or anything."

"No, I asked him because he's a better musician than I am and I thought he'd hide me," Derek said.

I knew what I was _supposed _to say, that there was no hiding a hack like him, that Steven Tyler himself couldn't make Derek sound good, but who would I have been kidding?

"You don't need him to hide you Derek," I said. "I've heard you. You know full well how good you are."

Then I went into my room and shut the door.


	19. Chapter 19

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: The writers and producers of _LWD_ are nowhere near as longwinded as I am. Which means I have no claim on _LWD_ or anything else I reference.

Chapter Nineteen.

Part Fifty: Derek.

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" I said to Casey's closed door.

She opened it. "Take a compliment, dork; you won't get many after we beat you," she said, then closed her door again.

"GAWD!" I said, going to my room and slamming my own door. I mean, who did she think she was, with these...these..._compliments_? Was she _trying_ to put me over the edge? If so, she found the way to do it.

I needed to go for a walk. I clunked down the stairs and got my jacket.

"Where you going?" Nora asked, from the couch.

"Out," I said.

"Don't be too late," Dad said.

"Take an umbrella," Marti said.

I walked four blocks before my umbrella turned inside out for the third and last time (one of the ribs poked clean through the cloth part, so it was time to give it a decent burial in the nearest trash can and move on,) and I got good and soaked. I turned around and headed home to dry off. I have _some_ survival instincts.

About a block away, I got honked at. Sheldon. He pulled over and I got in.

"Do you know what I will do to you if you get sick?" Sheldon said. He was really getting mouthy.

"Dude, have you been taking Edwin lessons, or something?" I asked. "It's getting so that everyone thinks they can say _any_thing to me, lately."

"Well maybe it's what you need, Soggy Boy," Sheldon said.

"Speaking of which," I said. "What brings you out in this mess?"

"I'm gonna go study at Em's house," he said.

"'_Study_'" I said.

"And babysit," he added. "Her folks went to dinner."

I laughed.

"What's so funny?" Sheldon asked.

It took a minute before I could breathe. "Study," I gasped. "_Babysit_! Did you bring your Marvin Gaye CD?"

"My—" he began. Then he understood. "Oh my God!"

"Or are you a Barry White sorta guy?" I asked.

"Do you really want details, Der?" he asked.

That shut me up.

"Thought not," he said. He pulled into the driveway. "Now go dry off before you get sick."

"You _are_ playing safe, right Schlep?" I asked.

"OUT!" he said. "Out of my car! Go wash your mind out with soap!"

"See ya later," I said laughing.

"Yeah, yeah yeah," he said, his face finally cracking. "Go!"

I went in through the kitchen door and passed by Casey and Smarti on my way upstairs.

"Told you to bring an umbrella, Smerek!" Smarti yelled.

"I did," I said. "I killed it. Sorry, Smarti."

Casey caught up with me at the foot of the stairs. She had a wad of paper towels in her hand.

"You're dripping all over the floor!" She said.

"Well, I would have climbed up to my window, to save the mess, but the drainpipe's a little slippery," I said.

She tried to dry my head off with the paper towels. I swear. I couldn't make that up.

"I'm..." I said. "Just gonna go take a shower, I think."

"Good idea," she said. "Hang that stuff up to dry or it'll get mildewy."

"Thank you," Nora said. Neither she nor Dad looked up from the TV.

"Any time," Casey said.

Part Fifty-One: Marti.

I told Casey that Smerek probably needed some hot chocolate and I asked her to help, 'cause the marshmallows and stuff were on the high shelves. She said it was a good idea, too.

Duh.

Smerek must've been cold, 'cause he used Casey's blowdryer. He never did that. But it's not like he combed his hair, it was sticking up everywhere, and it curled up a little. I had some fun chasing him around the kitchen pretending I was his momma cat and I was gonna groom his fur. I licked my palm and went after him with it. I love to gross him out. He picked me up and held my arms so I couldn't do it. Like I was really gonna do it! He's silly.

So Casey made enough chocolate for the three of us. She measured it and everything. And she did it on the stove and not the microwave. With milk. And extra marshmallows. After Smerek put me down, she gave him his.

She said, "Here," and he took it. He was surprised. He stood there like a doofus for a second. I was about to remind him to say "Thank you" when he did.

"You're welcome," Casey said. She handed me my cup.

"Be careful," she said. Like I didn't know it's hot. But if I said anything, I'd spill it for sure. Happens to Edwin all the time.

"Thank you," I said. We sat around the kitchen table and Derek guzzled his chocolate even though it was really hot.

"Why'd you go out in this weather?" Casey asked him.

He shrugged.

"You better not get sick," she said. He laughed. A lot.

"I just got so much of that from Sheldon," he said.

"Good!" Casey said. "Where'd you run into Sheldon?"

"He was on his way to Emily's," Smerek said. He wiggled his eyebrows. That meant that Emily and Sheldon were gonna kiss. More than usual. And neck.

Casey looked at him funny.

"What?" he said. She shook her head.

And he had a chocolate mustache. Casey wiped part of it off with her thumb. So it was time for me to go inside. I'd drunk enough so I could carry it and not spill. I closed the sliding door behind me.

Part Fifty-Two: Casey

As I wiped at his upper lip, he looked down at my hand like "what are you doing?" and I stopped.

"Sorry," I said.

I weirded him out. _Way to go, Casey,_ I thought.

He killed the awkward moment by getting this evil look on his face.

"What?" I asked.

He got up and went to his bookbag, pulling out his phone. He hit a button and waited as it rang.

"Who're you calling?" I asked.

He held up an index finger. Then someone picked up.

"What are you two doing?!?" he asked in his sternest drill sergeant voice, the one he used on Edwin.

He held the phone away from his ear and from where I was, I could hear Emily cursing at him.

"Do you kiss your Schlepper with that mouth?" Derek asked. I grabbed the phone away.

"I will beat your scrawny ass to such a bloody pulp, and believe you me, when I'm done with you, you'll _hit_ that high note by next week, bitch!" I heard Emily yell.

"What high note is he gonna hit?" I asked. Derek's eyes got wide. This was juicy.

"Casey!" Emily said. "Um...ahem. How you doing?"

"What high note?" I repeated. Derek tried to take the phone back.

"It's an in joke," Derek said. "Means nothing."

"That's the best you can do?" I asked. "Thought you were Lord of the Lies?"

"He's just singing back-up a little," Emily said.

"Is he?" I asked. "Are you now?"

"Am I what?" Derek asked.

"Singing backup?" I asked.

He squinched his eyes shut. "A little," he said.

I squealed. "What are you singing back-up on?" I moved a step forward and he backed up.

"You are so gonna tell me," I said.

"How do you figure that?" Derek said, suddenly nervy.

"Um, guys," Emily said. I'd forgotten about her. Why didn't she just hang up?

"Sorry Em," I said. "Resume...whatever you were doing." Derek laughed.

"So," I said. "You gonna tell me?"

"Um, let's see," he said. "No?"

"Wrong answer," I said.

"Where in the book does it say I have to tell you anything?" he asked.

"I could show you," I said. "But you don't read."

"The insult method of getting answers," he said. "Yeah, that'll work." He backed up against the sink. I reached out and tried to tickle him, got a couple of pokes in, in fact, but he caught my wrists.

"Trying to tickle me?" he asked. "Seriously?" He kept hold of my hands. If either of us had let go, there'd have been trouble. We stayed like that for what felt like a week.

"Wouldn't it be so much easier just to tell me?" I asked.

"I'm not one to take the easy way out," he said. I laughed my head off at that and let my guard down, so he was able to tickle the hell out of me. It was a couple of minutes before I could get away and he almost caught me again by the pocket doors as I tried to get them open to make a run for it. I flew past Mom, George, and Marti, who were sitting in front of the TV like Armageddon wasn't going on behind them. God knew we were making all kinds of noise, but they didn't look up.

"Don't break anything," Mom said.

Derek knocked a couple pictures off the wall on his way upstairs.

"Guys, I said _don't_ break anything!" Mom said. "You heard the 'don't' part, right?"

"Sorry, Nora," he said, turning around in the hallway. "Is there broken glass?" That was the one thing in the world he was good about cleaning up. Especially around Marti.

"No," Mom said, picking them up. "They didn't break. This time. How can the two of you be so ungraceful so much of the time?"

"It's a gift?" Derek said.

"Well," Mom said. "If you're gonna go kill each other, put down newspaper first."

"Will do," Derek said.

Then I decided that it was a good time to run for it again.

"Guys!" Lizzie said poking her head out of her door, but then ducking back in as I almost skidded into her. "For God's sake! This book is boring enough without all these distractions!"

"Why don't you take a study break, Liz," Derek said. "And help me torment your sister?"

"Making out would be quieter," Lizzie said turning back into her room and closing the door.

I froze, just completely locked up. I couldn't believe she said that. I turned around and looked at Derek who was just as stuck in place as I was.

It would've been cool, I thought, to go over there and grab him and kiss him. Think I did? Of course not. He didn't either.

"Hey," Edwin said coming down from the attic, "It got quiet. Who killed who?"

"Whom," I corrected, turning to him.

"If someone made a grammar mistake on your obituary, you'd haunt them, wouldn't you?" Edwin said.

"'Course she would," Derek said.

"'Course I would," I said. "And it's 'you'd haunt him or her' not 'them' because the word 'someone' is singular, so its pronoun would be..."

"I get it," Edwin said, holding up a hand. He looked from Derek to me and back again. "G'nite," he said, shaking his head. It was still kind of early, but he clearly wanted out of here.

"Night," I said. Derek grunted.

Only I would ruin a moment in such a ridiculous way.

Derek caught my eye and laughed. I had to smile.

"I meant it, you know," I said.

"Huh?" Derek said.

"What I said about how good you are," I said. "I wasn't trying to mess with you."

The look he gave me was pure Deer-in-headlights. He opened his mouth and shut it again, like he'd forgotten how to speak English.

"Say 'Thank you' Derek," Lizzie said, from behind her closed door. I kicked her door, and heard her giggle.

"Th—thank you," Derek said.

God, his eyes were so big, and all I wanted to do was hug him, but I knew how he'd react to it.

"You're welcome," I said. I wondered what it would feel like to have a real, honest conversation with him, without evasive wisecracks from either of us. It seemed like all we ever did when we did talk was insult each other. We weren't really insulting each other, though, if that makes sense.

I knew it wasn't gonna happen that day, but I hoped it would soon.

Part Fifty-Three: Sam.

I'd gone to see the remake of _Halloween_ with Holly Hendrix. We were walking out of the theater, still munching on leftover popcorn, when I thought to check my phone. There was a message waiting.

"Sammy!" the recording of Derek said. "We made the cut. Was there a doubt in your mind? I thought not. So I figure we're all a little burnt, so we can take a break tomorrow..But we're gonna be back at it Saturday morning, like mega early...so... yeah, Sam, enjoy the rest because there will be no more until we win."

"Derek?" Holly guessed.

"Yep," I said. I told her what he said, and she seemed properly excited.

"Kickass!" she said, hugging me. "I heard there were a lot of entries this year, too."

"So I'm told," I said. "But we have good singers this time, and we've actually been practicing, so..."

"Yeah, whatever," Holly said. "Look at you being all humble when you know you wanna do a little happy dance." She cabbage-patched around to the garbage can to toss her popcorn bag. "C'mon you can do it: 'I'm gonna wi-in, I'm gon-na wi-in.'"

She almost got me doing it right along with her. But it was _me_, and I did _not_ do that. Derek did stuff like that. Ralph and Em might have been persuaded to do stuff like that, and Sheldon _definitely_ did stuff like that, but I did not.

"So?" she said. "Aren't you gonna call him?"

I smiled at her guiltily as I hit the speed dial.

"Just don't take too long," she said. She went over to the arcade. I guess she knew I might be a while.

"So we made the cut, you say?" I asked when Derek picked up.

"Mmhhmm," Derek said.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked.

"Nope," he said.

"Then what's the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing," Derek said. "You home already?"

"Nope," I said. "The movie just ended. Holly's getting in a little Ms. Pac Man I think. I just got your message, so I thought I'd call."

"You're leaving a girl alone on a first date to call _me_?" he asked. "I am so disappointed in you."

"I have no intention of leaving her for long, D.," I said.

"How was the movie?" he asked.

"I have no idea," I said.

"You dawg, you," he teased.

"Nuh-uh," I said. "She watched the movie. I watched her watch the movie. That's all that happened."

I listened to him laugh for a minute. "Sammy, you're done for," he said.

"I know," I said, grinning. "And if anyone would know that feeling, I guess it'd be you, huh?"

He sighed. "Yeah."

"Is that why you sound all depressed?" I asked. "You finally made a move and it didn't work out?"

"No," he said. "I had, like, five opportunities and I pussed out each and every time."

"Well," I said. "You can try again, tomorrow." He laughed some more. I think he sounded better after that.

"I guess," he said. "Now go find out what that movie was about."

"Yes, Derocrates," I said.

"Bite me," he said.


	20. Chapter 20

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own anything to do with _Life with Derek, The Muppet Show, The Exorcist, Drake and Josh,_ or anything else, pretty much.

Chapter Twenty

Part Fifty-Four: Derek

Over the course of the next week, everyone and their brother became my Mommy. After catching me trying out the whole drowned rat look, Sheldon kept checking up on me. As did Emily, and Sam and Ralph. Because it just would not _do_ if I got sick.

Casey didn't seem to get it, thank God.

"Why're you guys being so paranoid if he's just singing back-up?" she asked, after the two of us were accosted at our car.

"Because," Sheldon lied, "He gets sick, he'll pass it on to everyone else. And I am _not _getting sick, now zip up your jacket and fix that scarf. You too, Case."

"Awww," Casey said, after he left. "You've been pulled into the Schlepper protectiveness bubble. Emily told me all about that."

"Has she now?" I said.

"Yep," she said. "Be happy he doesn't carry your books."

"I would _not_ complain if he carried my books," I said.

So like I said, the whole next week it was "Button-up, Derek," (Sam), or "Did you seriously leave your house with wet hair, Derek?"(Emily) and "Save your voice, Derek," (Ralph). Ralph especially enjoyed that last comment, using it on me literally every time I opened my mouth.

Casey and I avoided each other; I think that both of us were getting really nervous by this point, so the less contact between us, the better. We drove each other to and from school and saw each other at dinner, but hid out otherwise.

And I might have pined a little. I guess I can admit that. I tried to get Edwin to show me the demos from her band, but the little monster wouldn't show them to me, and even changed his password so who knew how long it would take me to figure the new one out. Took me almost a week the last time he changed it.

Emily, despite that one close call, (which technically wasn't her fault,) kept what we were up to a secret. She went shopping with Casey for rocker chick outfits and did a lot of dancing around Casey's room with Lizzie, Marti and Nora (and Edwin, but I'm not supposed to know that), but she didn't spill the beans.

Meanwhile, the closer we got to the actual Clash of the Bands, the less I wanted to do it. Having me sing solo (unless it's so lo you can't hear me, ha ha,) could not possibly have what you'd call a positive outcome.

So I needed to blow off some steam. And the Devil made me do it. That's the official story. Friday morning, the day of the contest, I was hanging out with Sam and Ralph by my locker, and along came Shemily, attached at the hip as usual. They said hi, and Sam and Ralph said hi back. I nodded.

"Nervous?" Emily asked.

"A little," Sam said.

"Kinda," Ralph said.

I shrugged.

Now Sheldon is almost as bad as Edwin. Can't get anything by him. He narrowed his eyes at me and said, "Derek?"

I looked up.

"Say something," he said.

"Something," I rasped.

"Shit," Emily said. Sheldon looked at me in disbelief, and suddenly it was just too much. I started laughing my head off.

"You are so my bitch," I said. "You should've seen your face!" But as usual I was too busy laughing for any kind of self-preservation instinct to kick in.

"No one will ever find your body," Sheldon said. Then he made a move toward me and I ran like hell, still laughing. I got most of the way down the hall when I realized he wasn't really chasing me. He was leaning against my locker with Sam, Ralph and Em. He shook his head at me like I was the biggest dumbass ever.

"So I'm confused," Ralph said, when I got back. "_Who's_ the bitch?"

Part Fifty-Five: Sheldon

I really could have done without Derek's little stunt. I'd had three cups of coffee. So everything was pissing me off. Add to that the fact that Emily somehow talked me out of shaving. She said something about stubble being sexy or something like that (Apparently she's never met me,). So I was caffeinated, itchy, and surrounded by wiseasses.

And I found two typos in my English paper. _Two_. I know that a couple of typos won't kill me, but I couldn't stop thinking about them. Of all the things to fixate on, I had to zero in on a couple of minor mistakes that no one gave a damn about but me. But I guessed that beat the hell out of worrying about what was going to happen that night.

Mr. Lang practically yanked the thing out of my hand. That was fourth period. It left the rest of the day free to freak out.

Emily, of course, was calm as hell. As we were climbing into my car at the end of the day, I asked her how she could be so calm and she giggled and told me that I was worrying enough for the both of us.

"Do you have to look so damned entertained?" I asked.

"Do you have to be so damned entertaining?" she asked.

"Keep laughing," I said. "Hopefully our cataclysmic failure will be funny, too."

"Awww," she said. "Fuzzy Boy's being all dramatic. It's not like you've never been on stage before. The stage likes you and you like the stage, even after all the times you've fallen on it."

"Did you have to bring that up?" I asked. I put my head on the steering wheel.

"I brought it up because it's never been a big deal," Emily said. "Once you're safely on the stage, you'll be fine. You always are."

"But it's not just me this time," I said.

"Yeah," Emily agreed. "But you can't take on the responsibility of everybody else. As cute as I think you are when you're being a Mommy, I think it's time to cut the cord."

"Can I at least make sure they bring sweaters?" I asked.

"That reminds me," Emily said. "What are you wearing?"

"What am I wearing?" I asked. "Not that I don't wanna play, but aren't we supposed to do that type of thing over the _phone_?"

It took her a second to get it. "You're such a dork! I meant what are you gonna wear tonight?"

"I was thinking something velcro," I said. She hit me.

"I don't know," I said. "T-shirt. Jeans. Who's gonna be looking at _me_ when they have _you_ to look at?"

She sighed. "Let's go to your house first, so I can pick out your clothes for tonight."

Who was I to argue?

Damn good thing I did the laundry the night before. She went through my closet and threw stuff on the bed pretty much at random, making me try most of it on for her.

We finally settled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

As we folded my stuff up again, I couldn't resist asking her what she was going to be wearing.

"Well," she said. "That's a surprise."

I whimpered, like a puppy.

"You'll see soon enough," she said. "Now hurry up and give me some stubbleburn, Fuzzy, before I have to go deal with what Derek's wearing."

"Now I just don't feel special," I said.

"Aw, come on," Emily said. "If we leave Derek to his own devices, he'll show up with guyliner."

"Good point," I said.

"Sam can be trusted, as long as he doesn't bring that hat," Emily said. "And Ralph. Ralph's just _Ralph_. We can expect those vinyl pants to resurface, I think. But he'll mostly be behind the drum kit."

"You however," she continued. "Can be content with the fact that you really needed the least attention, but are getting the most. Now why aren't you kissing me?"

Part Fifty-Six: Emily

What would anybody do without me? I got to Derek and Casey's and found a higher level of chaos than usual going on.

Nora let me in. She looked ready to kill someone.

"They're both upstairs," she said. "If by chance you want to toss one out the window, be my guest."

"'Nah,' the guy said," I heard Edwin say as I stood outside Derek's room, poised to knock. "'There are still two parachutes. The smartest man in the world grabbed my backpack.'"

"Dude, that joke's so old," Derek said. "What else ya got?"

"Who do I look like?" Edwin said. "George Carlin?"

"Knock, knock," I said, poking my head into the room.

"Who's there?" Edwin said. I think it might've been a reflex.

"Um," I said, trying to think of a knock-knock joke, but blanking.

"Sorry," Edwin said. "I've gone through my entire repertoire and most of Marti's. My brain is starting to hurt."

"Take a break," I said. "You've earned it."

Edwin hugged me. "You're the best," he said.

"So I'm told," I said.

Edwin ran up to his own room and shut the door.

"Now," I said, turning to Derek. "Let's get down to business, here. Show mama what you're gonna wear tonight."

Derek looked down at what he had on.

"Oh hell no," I said and went to his closet. His choices were somewhat more limited than Sheldon's were, (Derek's not the firmest believer in doing laundry) but I grabbed a couple of clean t-shirts out of his drawer and a pair of beat to hell, but clean jeans. I laid them out on the bed. Then I tossed a button down shirt on top of it.

Then I picked up the two t-shirts and held each up to his face to see which one was best with his coloring. He looked at me like this wasn't a normal thing to do.

"We'll go with the red," I said. "Now, what is the one rule?"

"I can take a hint, Emily," Derek said.

"Nope," I said. "You need to say it out loud."

"No guyliner," he grumbled. "I did it _once_!"

"More than once, I heard," I said.

"_Casey,_" he growled. I laughed.

"My work here is done," I said. I turned and left his room. Then I knocked on Casey's door because my work is never _really_ done.

I found Casey dithering over two really nice outfits, one with pants, and one dress.

"Let's do this logically, Case," I began. "What kind of songs are you guys playing? Are you doing ballady stuff or rockers?"

"Ballady stuff," Casey said.

I talked her into the dress. It was a black and simple, the type of thing you wear with pearls. Derek would lose his mind.

"Sure it's not too old fashioned?" Casey asked.

"Yep," I said. "Just the right amount of old fashioned." I went through her makeup, pulling out red lipstick and putting it on her dresser as a hint. I also pulled out her fake pearls.

"And leave your hair out," I said. "No braids, no barrettes, no nothing. Curl it a little if you have time. Got it?"

"I guess," Casey said.

For a change, she wasn't giving me an argument. Maybe she was too nervous to be a pain in the ass.

On my way out, I heard the distinct sound of retching coming from the bathroom. I knocked on the door.

"Hey," I said. "You okay in there?"

"Uh-huh," Derek said. "Perfectly normal."

"This is normal for you?" I asked.

"Gonna have to trust me on that," Derek said.

"Let me out of this house!" I said going downstairs.

I went home, showered and changed. Then Sam came to get me and Derek.

"_Damn_!" Sam said, looking me over.

"Thank you," I said. "Not so bad yourself."

I grabbed my bag and got ready to go, but then I realized I'd forgotten something. I ran into the kitchen for it.

"Paper bags?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," I said. "For Casey to breathe into, and Derek—"

"To yark into," Sam said, catching on.

"Does he really always throw up?" I asked. "I was at their house and it sounded like Regan McNeil had moved into the upstairs bathroom."

"I don't know about _always_," Sam said. "But pretty often, when he's really nervous."

"Am I the only one who thinks that that's really bad?" I asked.

"No," Sam said. "His folks had him checked out by a doctor."

"And?"

"And I dunno," Sam said. "I guess they need to watch him for ulcers, but so far, he's okay. He's just a worrier. He'll try to pretend he's all chill, but I usually know better."

I thought about that, and I guessed it made sense. And when Derek came to the door, he looked pale but pretty much okay. He'd showered and brushed his teeth. Sam patted him on the back, obviously used to this type of thing.

Derek got a good look at me. "Hot _damn_," he said.

"Thank you," I said. I wasn't wearing anything that out of the ordinary—V-neck shirt, some jeans that Casey told me that I needed to get, but these were boys and it didn't take that much to make them happy. _Wait till he sees Casey_, I thought.

We climbed into Sam's Dad's van and headed to pick up Ralph, who thankfully wasn't wearing those vinyl plants (he explained that the rash just wasn't worth it—something I'm sure we all needed to know). He had on a t-shirt with Animal from _the Muppet Show_ on it. That had to be the single most perfect thing I'd ever seen. It cracked Derek up and for most of the ride, he kept losing it every time he looked at Ralph. But on the upside, it showed off the boy's shoulders.

The funniest thing of the year so far was poor Ralph trying really hard to look me in the eyes. He was so cute! Like I didn't know what kind of lech he was, but on top of that he was the sweetest, most chivalrous lech on Earth, so it was hard not to be flattered when he looked at my butt. I took it as the compliment that it was.

When we got to Sheldon's house, I got the reaction I was really waiting for. He looked at me very seriously and he said "God is good." The rest of the van cracked up. Meanwhile, Sheldon was showing off his own nice set of shoulders in the plain black t-shirt I picked out for him. I couldn't resist sticking my cold hands under the shirt to tickle him a little.

"Quit it," he said, grabbing my hands.

"Make me," I said. "Or better yet, come here, Springsteen."

"Do you guys have to do that now?" Derek said, from the front seat.

"Um," Sheldon said, pretending to think it over. "Yeah?"

Derek stared out the window, trying to make sure he didn't catch a glimpse of us from the corner of his eye.

"Just try not to get us arrested," Sam said, watching the road.

Part Fifty-Seven: Noel.

The first thing I saw when the door opened was a camera flash. Casey's Mom. I had been warned about it, but there really is no way to prepare for the sudden blindness.

I stumbled down the couple of steps toward the purple-tinged couch and the purple tinged Marti sitting there. I clutched the arm for support and blinked hard a few times.

"How ya doing, Marti?" I asked. At least I hoped it was Marti.

"I'm okay," she said. "You look pretty."

"Why thank you," I said. "You do, too, as usual."

"I know,"she said. She was gonna be such trouble when she hit sixteen. It was obvious.

"Where is herself?" I said, mentally kicking myself for turning into my grandfather.

"She's upstairs, playing with her hair and stuff," Marti said. "Making herself pretty."

We watched ten minutes of a _Drake and Josh_ rerun (Blues Brothers, a classic if I do say so myself) when Casey finally came down. She had on this black dress that looked like it came out of the fifties and pearls and it was the single hottest thing I'd seen in my life up to that moment.

Then she looked at me and looked back down at herself and said. "This is too much isn't it?"

"Nope," I squeaked. After I cleared my throat, I said. "You're perfect. I kinda look like a waiter on a break, but you shouldn't change a thing."

"I should take these pearls off," she said, reaching for them.

"Don't touch," I said.

"Was this Lisa's idea?" Casey asked, gesturing at my outfit—dark blue shirt, black pants. No way I would have come up with any of it on my own, and I fought her tooth and nail on it. "This shirt is perfect with your eyes," she said. Then she undid a button.

There were more pictures.

"Mom!" Casey said.

"Complain all you want, Case," her Mom said. "Derek snuck out before I could get a crack at him, but I'll get him later. There is no escape."

When we finally broke away, I had to double back to get Lisa, who wasn't ready when I showed up to get her before, and who had refused to show me her outfit until she _was_ ready. I showed up at her door, leaving Casey in the car. I braced myself for another flash, but thankfully, none came this time.

But Lisa made herself a nice little entrance. She didn't do the slow motion, coming downstairs thing that Casey had done, but she did open the door, throw both arms in the air and twirl on the spot.

She'd dyed the blue out of her hair. I'd never been crazy about it. She'd done it after she'd dumped me, sort of as an "I Will Survive" kinda thing (even though, I repeat, _she_ dumped _me_), but I'd gotten so used to it that her brown curly hair struck me dumb for a minute.

"What?" she asked. "No good?"

I stood there like an idiot, blinking at her.

"You see," she said. "This is why I don't listen to my Mom! I just knew this would go over like a lead balloon, but _mmmpphh_..."

Kissing her seemed a little easier than putting a sentence together. Then when I pulled away, I shrank back because I was sure she was going to clobber me.

"So you _do_ like it?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I said.

"What about my outfit?" she asked. "I'm not overdoing it?"

"Nuh-uh," I said. She had on some dark gray thing, sleeveless, kinda slinky, with a shortish skirt, and a silver necklace that I'd given her the year before. I went in for another kiss, and she put one hand over my mouth.

"Sure this is a good idea?" she asked. I nodded. "What about Casey?"

"Who?" I asked, when she took her hand away.

"Don't be a wiseass," Lisa said.

"Never had a shot with Casey," I said. "Didn't take Einstein to figure that out."

"Nope," she said.

"Just Lizzie," I said.

"So that's it?" Lisa asked. "You bounce off of Casey and come pinballing back to me?"

"Huh?" I said. "No! Now that I think about it, it was more the other way around. She's beautiful, but the fact is that no matter how I pretend to have her number, I don't _know_ this girl. I know _you_."

"So?" she asked.

"_So_, if I had known her better, I would've figured out that she's in love with her stepbrother way sooner and maybe I wouldn't have wasted so much time," I said.

She looked at me all surprised that I figured out who Casey was all gaga over. I'm clueless, but I'm not that clueless. I just refused to think about it. Once I did think it over, it was really freakin obvious.

"And do I need to remind you that I never wanted us to break up?" I said.

"We needed to break up," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"We both needed to grow up," she said. "I was too bossy and you were too wimpy."

"You really think that I'm some kind of child?" I said. "That you made me do things that I didn't want to do? You're really good at giving me a push, but I never gave in to anything that I didn't agree with."

"What about that outfit?" she said. She was trying not to smile, a really good sign.

"That's different," I said. "I would've shown up dressed like a bum, but if, after you made your argument, I still wanted to dress like a bum, I would've. You will notice that I'm not wearing the tie."

"You _tiger_, you," she said. "What's next? Piercings? Join a motorcycle gang? Gonna go knock over a liquor store?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Laugh it up."

"You do look all pretty with your little shirt," she teased.

"Thank you," I said. "See, I'm open to suggestion. Not wimpy."

"If that's what you want to believe," she said.

"You're annoying me," I said. "But it's not working."

She said nothing for a while. Then I heard a really strident honking coming from outside. I jumped a few feet straight up.

"And you say _you're_ bossy?" I asked.

"I guess it's getting late," Lisa said. "We should get going."

"Probably," I said. I leaned in for another kiss.

HHOOONNNKKK!

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," I said, hopping back again.

"You have lipstick," Lisa said, gesturing to her own mouth. I ran to the kitchen real quick for paper towels. I wet a couple, giving one to her and we both ran like hell back to the car so that we could disengage Casey from the horn.


	21. Chapter 21

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended. And if by chance I've screwed up and accidentally used the names of actual existing bands for my fictional ones, _mea culpa_. Me sorry.

Chapter Twenty-One

Part Fifty-Eight: Edwin

Okay, so I tried to wash my hands of this entire thing, but as sick of it as I became, I was still too curious not to spy. Or observe. _Research_. That's the ticket.

I took the camera because Dad couldn't be trusted with it. We have a video of Marti's school play—at least I _think_ it was Marti's play, it was hard to tell because _most_ of what you can see on the video is a _wall_. Dad kept putting the camera aside to do other stuff. And then there was Nora, who could hold the thing steady, for the most part, but was most certainly going to cry, and then she'd just shake the hell out of the camera, so it fell to me and Lizzie. She decided that she'd stay in the audience with the big camera and I'd sneak backstage with the little one.

"Why do _I_ have to sneak backstage?" I asked.

"Because you're sneakier than I am," she said. I was about to argue, but she flashed her big eyes at me and I was powerless.

So I snuck backstage. Or maybe "snuck" isn't the word. There I was, trying to be all cloak and dagger, keeping to the shadows and stuff, but Mrs. Zeldin just _let me in_.

"I want a copy, Edwin," was all she said.

I was searching the crowd for someone I recognized when I got kidnapped by a bunch of grade ten girls. They apparently thought I was cute, but not in the good way. I was scrawny kitten at the SPCA cute. My hair got ruffled and my cheeks got pinched. Then, they asked about _Derek_.

"Isn't he here?" I asked, looking around.

"He was," Perky Brunette #1 said.

"Just a second ago," Perky Bleached Blond said.

"We thought you'd know where he went," Perky Brunette #2 said.

"No idea," I said. Though I thought of one place he could be, praying to the porcelain god some more, perhaps.

"He's such a hottie," Perky Brunette #1 said. The other two agreed that yes he was indeed a hottie. Sooo hot in fact.

"You look _nothing_ like him," Perky Bleached Blonde said.

"_There_ you are," Ralph said, grabbing me by the collar before I could think of a reply. He started to drag me toward the back of the room. "Where's the sodas?"

"The what?"

"Well, what kinda roadie are you if you didn't bring the sodas?" Ralph said. "Did you at least pull out all the green M&Ms?"

"What?" I asked.

"Just messin' with you," Ralph said. "Sorry I just dragged you away from those chicas over there, but they looked a little creepy."

"They were a lot creepy," I said.

"In that case," Ralph said, leading me to where the rest of the band, sans Derek, was hanging out. "I'm not sorry. So what's with the camera? You weren't trying to get any girls in their underwear, were you, 'cause I think they were all dressed when they got here."

"What?" I said. Ralph tended to baffle me.

"Lizzie'd have his guts for garters," Sam said.

"Besides, Edwin would never do such a thing," Emily said.

"Nooo, not me," I said. "I value my life too much. So where's Sheldon?"

"It's his turn," Emily said. When I looked confused, or more confused than usual, she clarified. "He's on Pukewatch."

I shuddered.

"I know," Emily said. "Poor baby, I'm gonna have to make it up to him, later."

Casey came up to us, wanting to know what I was doing there.

"What," I said. "You're not happy to see me?" I stuck out my lower lip.

"Nice try," she said. "What're you up to? You're not trying to catch anyone in their drawers are you?"

"You see anyone in their drawers here?" I said, gesturing at the room. "And why does everyone think the worst of me? Who do I look like, _Derek_?"

"Actually I think someone just told him that he looks _nothing_ like Derek," Ralph said.

"Thanks, Ralphie," I said.

"Anytime," he said.

"So again," Casey began. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Edwin, but based on my vast experience, I have to wonder if you're up to something."

"Yeah," I said. "Look how suspicious I look, standing around in plain sight." I pulled the little camera out of my pocket. "Lizzie's up front with the other camera and I'm in here to get some backstage stuff and better angles for when you guys go onstage."

"Zeldin let him in," Ralph said. "He's legit."

"Oh," Casey said, looking kind of guilty, even though she was right and I was totally up to something. "My bad."

Everything I told her was true, but I was also there to get two things: Derek watching Casey and Casey watching Derek. Then, if I need to, if they were still too dense to see what was in front of them, I was perfectly willing to sit them down in front of the video and stage an intervention.

"Where's Derek?" Casey asked, then she looked around and realized that someone else was missing. "And Sheldon?"

"Sheldon's making sure Derek's not dying," Emily said.

"He's throwing up _again_?" Casey asked. "That's really starting to freak me out. Where is he?"

"Boys' room around the corner," Emily said. Casey headed for the door. "Wait! Case, you're not going in there! It's really really nasty."

"I guess I am," Casey said. "Pray for me."

She got as far as the door, where she crashed into Sheldon. Derek was right behind him.

"Thank God," she said.

"Wow," Sheldon said. "I'm happy to see you too, Casey, but this is ridiculous. But that's a cute little dress you have there. Em? We seem to be out of mouthwash." He waggled an empty travel bottle.

"Here ya go," Emily said, handing another tiny bottle directly to Derek, who took a swig, swished and spat into a nearby garbage can.

"Pays to be prepared," Emily said, winking at me.

Speaking of which, I will forever be royally pissed that I got none of what came next on tape. It took too long to set up the camera.

Part Fifty-Nine: Derek

"Are you okay?" Casey said.

I looked over at Casey and felt for a second like I'd die on the spot. It was like sirens went off. My heart stopped for a second and then kickstarted clumsily. I told myself that I could be in the same room with her and be okay, and then she showed up looking like that. She looked like Audrey Hepburn for God's sake. There was just nowhere to look that didn't make me want to cry. My stomach was completely empty, thank God, otherwise something might have happened to that dress.

"Derek," Casey said. She put a hand on my arm. I looked down at it.

"Yeah?" I squeaked.

She took her hand off my arm and moved it to my forehead, then my cheek. Like I had a fever. I kept thinking about how I'd be fine if she'd just quit touching me.

"I'm okay," I said, pulling away.

"You sure?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I said. There was this little "bing" noise, which I realized later meant that Ed's camera kicked in."Right as rain."

"Yeah, that's you," Casey said. She played with my hair a little and fixed my collar. She turned away from me and I felt relieved and depressed at the same time.

"So," Casey said. "What do you say for this type of thing? Break a leg doesn't really fit, does it?"

"Pop a string?" Sam said.

"Lose the beat?" Emily said.

"Forget the words?" Sheldon said.

"Okay," Casey said. "All of those. Pop a string, lose the beat, and forget the words. Gimme a hug?" She went down the line and hugged everyone except me because, as usual, I hopped out of the way when she got to me. She always tries and all I had to do was let her. But I didn't. Yeah, I have problems, I admit it. I saw the look that she gave me, and the way that Edwin looked up at the ceiling like he was asking God for strength, but pretended that I saw none of it. To kill the awkwardness of the whole thing, Ralph went from one end of the line to the other to hug Casey again. She laughed, he winked, and all seemed cool for a second.

Just then Mrs. Zeldin called everyone to attention and asked for one kid from every band to come forward. Sam and Noel came up as did Jessie, from the Hand Painted Periwinkles (who I didn't recognize with her new blond hair), Freddie, from The Well Puppies and another kid I didn't recognize.

Mrs. Zeldin held out an envelope and each kid pulled out a slip of paper with a number on it. For a second, I expected them to pull out little miniature dragons like Harry Potter, proof that I spend too much time in front of the TV.

"No dragons?" Ralph said.

Sam held up his slip of paper. It had the number three on it.

I let out the breath I'd been holding and said, "We're not first." Ralph laughed at me.

Jessie held up her number—two, Freddie was four and the other kid was five. Then Noel grinned directly at the camera and held out his slip and on it was the number one. Poor kid. I almost felt sorry for him. He laughed, but I doubt he thought it was too funny.

"Oh God," Casey said.

"Son of a..." Lisa said.

"We're ready," Mikey said.

"Get it over with, then we can relax," Jeff said.

"Good point," Noel said.

"Here, Case," Emily said, handing her a paper bag. Casey started to breathe into it.

"Ten minute warning," Mrs. Zeldin said.

Part Sixty: Sam.

Casey puffed into a paper bag, and Derek gripped the edge of a table. Edwin kept pointing the camera from one to the other.

Derek flipped Edwin off.

"Love you too, bro," Edwin said.

"Aw, Hell with this," Casey said, looking into the paper bag. Her lipstick had smeared. This is why I never understood why women bother with that crap; it's constantly ending up on soda bottles or straws, or faces. She wiped it off, checked herself in a mirror. She'd gotten it all, but her mouth stayed red, like she'd been eating popsicles. It looked nice. Then she grabbed a new bag and kept it handy, just in case.

Noel put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," she said nodding. "Aren't you nervous?"

"Uh, _yeah_," he said. "But up against the two of you, I look pretty calm, don't I?" But his hands were shaking when he said that. He put them into his pockets.

"You getting all of this, Edwin?" Lisa said.

"You know it," Edwin said.

"How bout my outfit," Lisa said.

Edwin made a twirling motion with his hand and she did a little spin.

"Good deal," Lisa said. "Now Noel."

"I'm _not_ twirling," he said.

"Now get these pretty little D-Rock people," Lisa said. Edwin swung the camera over to me so fast that I jumped back a little. But I managed to smile and wave, the whole time, feeling like God's own doofus.

"How _you_ doin'?" Ralph said, when the camera got to him. Em and Sheldon were...busy. There was tickling and play fighting and I had to look away because the look they were giving each other was just none of my business. I think Edwin zoomed in.

"They got the right idea," Lisa said.

"This is true," Noel said. Lisa rested her chin on his shoulder and slid her arms around him from behind. Casey saw them and a slow grin spread across her face.

_Ohhh,_ I thought. I made a mental note to stop Ralph from hitting on her, but then I noticed that Ralph saw it too. He snapped his fingers like,_ Aww nuts_. Like a little kid. Never failed to crack me up.

I heard an "Oh my God!" and I turned back in time to see Emily bury her face in Sheldon's chest, and Sheldon turn all kinds of red and turn his head away to hide the smile on his face.

"You get a lot of death threats, don't you Edwin?" Sheldon asked. The sting of the threat was kind of lost because Sheldon was too busy laughing.

"A couple," Edwin said. "Per day."

"Okay, now. Enough of them," Lisa said. "Back to us." Everyone nearby laughed.

"You gotta get Mikey's cute ass on film," Lisa said. She swung Mikey around.

"Beats the hell outta my face, I'm told," Mikey joked.

"And Jeff!" Lisa said, grabbing him and pulling him forward.

"Dude, I'm the bass player," Jeff said. "My place is on the cutting room floor."

"Hey!" I said. _I'm_ a bass player.

"With who?" Edwin asked.

"_Whom_," Casey said.

"Whatever," Edwin said.

"I like this kid," Jeff said.

"Arrogant Chicken!" Mrs. Zeldin called. "You're up!"

"Crap," Casey said. Then she covered her mouth, like that would erase the word. She turned to Emily and the both jumped up and down for a second. Then they hugged. Then she turned and hugged Lisa and that somehow turned into a group hug.

"Dude," Ralph said. "Why don't _we_ group hug?" Derek glared at him. Ralph smiled back, and patted his shoulder.

As soon as Casey left, Derek put his head down on a table.

"God!" he said. He got down on his knees so that the table was about at chin level and he leaned on it that way, folding his arms under his head.

I walked over to where he was leaning, crouched down at his level and said, "Remember what you said the other day about pussing out?"

"I know," he moaned.

"So then, why?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I take that back—yes I do, just _look_ at her!" He gestured behind him, toward the stage.

"Yep," I said. "She looks incredible."

"She can do. So. Much. Better. Than. _Me_," he punctuated every word with a slight head bump.

Edwin groaned. He opened his mouth, about to yell at him and call the attention of everyone in the room, some of whom were already half watching, I think, but Emily stopped him.

"Let me," she said.

"Be my guest," Edwin said.

"Derek?" Emily asked, then waited patiently for him to look up.

"Yeah," he croaked.

"That dress?" she began. "She picked it out for _you_. She wanted to look good for _you_. And you are too stupid to appreciate it." She smacked him on the head and got up to watch the band from the wings. A couple of kids just walked out of the backstage area to watch from the front, and a few more went around behind the backdrop to watch from the other side. So there was more than enough room for all of us to stand there comfortably and watch.

"Coming?" Sheldon asked Derek.

"Nah," Derek said. "I can hear fine from over here."

"Come on," Sheldon said, "Let's go. I don't have all day."

"Don't make us drag you," I said.

"Don't know what the point is," Derek said, getting up.

"That's better," I said.

We tried to get him to stand up front with Edwin. A couple of the kids from other bands moved aside for him, but he wouldn't move up.

Part Sixty-One: Sheldon.

Okay, from a musical standpoint, I have never been so jealous in my life. At the same time, I wanted these Arrogant Chicken people on my iPod. I was willing to delete stuff so they could fit.

The first song they sang was "Breakfast at Tiffany's." Noel started the acoustic guitar intro, then sang the first line.

"Is that..." Emily asked.

"Wait um...I know this," Sam said.

"Kill me," Derek said.

Emily squealed. Em and I tried not to dance in place, because that would have been dorky. There was a lot of singing along, both backstage and from the audience. Then, at the end, a curveball.

They sang the last two choruses, a cappella. Five part harmony. That was just so damn cool that I almost couldn't stand it. Massive applause.

The next song was "Lover, You Should've Come Over," a song that is easy to screw up. Seriously, I've heard a couple of shitty versions, but they nailed it. _Nailed_ it. This guy, Noel can't be more than, what, seventeen, eighteen at the most. So the lyrics should have been really funny coming out of him. I would _never_ have attempted this song, because it would've been hilarious. Probably not as ridiculous as, say "My Way," or something like that, but still kinda funny. Because I just don't have it in me. But this guy does.

"We're so gonna lose," Sam said.

"Ya _think_?" Derek said, from his spot on the floor.

"Big time," I said. "Takes the pressure off, though. We can just go have a good time."

"Thank you, Miss Mary Sunshine," Derek said.

"Happy to help," I said.

Derek picked his head up from his hands and looked at me like he was surprised I could walk upright. We were probably gonna have trouble with him later, I figured, but at that moment, I was having too good a time to care.

The final nail in our whole Clash of the Bands coffin was "Wild Horses." A Casey solo. It was hard to tell which version of the song had given them the idea to do the cover. Didn't really follow the Rolling Stones. The Charlotte Martin version, maybe. There was a big, dramatic key change at the chorus, and they managed to turn from acoustic to electric in the middle, a perfect use of the slow build. Needless to say, everyone in the audience seemed to be either crying openly or on the edge of tears. Casey herself, ended the song on her knees, the tears running down her face. I hoped to God that Edwin had had sense enough to zoom in on her.

At the end of their set, in the midst of my fanboy ecstasy, I thought to check on Derek. He had started out the set standing next to Sam. Then he'd been on the floor, still in a position to see what was going on. This time, when I looked, I found him curled up against the wall a good ten feet away. His knees were up under his chin.

"My turn," Sam said, with a sigh. He went over and somehow talked Derek into standing up at least. _Jeez_, I thought. _And I thought __I__was melodramatic. _

Casey and Noel and everybody came in about a minute later, all jittery and milking the adrenaline high for all it was worth. There was more squealing and bouncing and hugging. And crying. Casey and Emily were totally incoherent for a minute or so.

During all of this, Noel and Lisa were making out.

"Jackpot," Casey said, when she more or less had herself together.

Sam came over and gave Casey a hug, telling her how great she was.

She thanked him, then asked, "Where is he?"

"He who?" Sam asked. Then he pointed Derek out. Dude was up against the far wall again.

"It never ends," I said.

"Welcome to my world," Edwin said.

At some point during all of this, the Hand Painted Periwinkles got their call and left to set up. I didn't see them go.

Certainly heard them, though.

Part Sixty-Two: Casey.

How pathetic am I that during the kind of moment most people bored their grandkids with, I was not only not appreciating it, but also I had only one thing on my mind. Pathetic me was dying to know what Derek thought of my performance. If I had been smart, I would've given up on trying to impress the almighty, gives-me-nothing Derek Venturi by that point.

I berated myself. _Come on_, I thought, _I think that redheaded emo kid with the Weezer glasses is trying to catch your eye. You can do it. Turn around, it's easy. So much easier than the nothing you're doing now. Come on, eye contact._

The next band had started to play, and again, I should've been enjoying myself. The atmosphere backstage was pretty friendly, even giggly, with people dancing to the Rilo Kiley song the Periwinkles were playing.

Ralph was cringing, but he does that. "If they play Jewel," he said. "I'm outta here."

Who was he kidding?

The good thing was that the Periwinkles were unplugged, at least for this song, so people could hear each other talking backstage.

"Could they have picked _anything_ else?" I said, sinking down into a folding chair next to where Derek was leaning against a wall.

"Kinda painful, isn't it," Derek said, not looking at me. "I feel my teeth starting to rot."

"They're okay," I said. "And I usually love Rilo Kiley, just not right now."

"No accounting for taste," Derek said.

"This coming from someone who has none," I said. I got up and moved my chair in front of him. He looked at his feet. I moved a little closer. He looked past me.

"Derek, why do you hate me?" I asked, finally. I was so tired, that it was the only thing I could think of to do.

But before he could answer, pandemonium erupted. There was cheering and applause and then the band plugged their stuff in and turned their amps up all the way. Of all the times to raise the noise level in the room. Mumbles over there could've been reciting _The Raven_ for all I knew.

I watched him shake his head and run his hands through his hair. He started to laugh a little.

I looked up at Derek like I was still waiting for an answer. It didn't matter if we had to play charades; I was getting an answer. I stood up in front of him and folded my arms; I wasn't getting out of his way.

He leaned forward, taking me by the shoulders and spoke directly into my ear, which gave me the shivers.

"Of course I don't hate you, Drama Queen," he said.

"Then what is it?" I said into his ear.

"Good question," he said. "Can we do this later? It's kinda loud in here?"

Both of us were too stupid to think of going into another room.

"No!" I said. "Right now!"

He said something that I didn't catch. It might have been "Jeez." He ran his hand through his hair again, then he put a hand on both sides of my face. He touched his forehead to mine.

Then there were crashing, end of the world guitars. I felt like putting my earplugs back in, but they were in my bag, halfway across the room and I wasn't moving from that spot. What's a little tinnitus between friends? Derek winced a little at the sudden increase in the noise level, too, but kept a watch on me.

He didn't try to yell this time. There would be no yelling over this noise, so he mouthed at me, very slowly:

"I love you."


	22. Chapter 22

Can't Beat Em, Join Em

by TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek or anything else I may reference herein. No profit is being made nor is any infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Part Sixty-Three: Derek.

Yep, _that _wasexactly the way I pictured it. I planned it out perfectly, didn't I? In a cramped, sweaty, loud back room of the auditorium, among a bunch of people. And of course, right after I said it, the music stopped, and there was just enough time in the break between one song and the next for Casey to state the obvious.

"You just said you love me," she said. I didn't think it was a good sign that that was the first thing she could think of to say.

"Uh-huh," I said.

Casey, being Casey, burst into tears. God what a mess.

"Casey," I said. "Please don't do that, okay? I'll do anything. If you want, we can forget all about what I just said. I'm an idiot; don't even worry about it..."

She turned around and looked behind her. I didn't know what the hell she was looking at, but she turned back soon enough.

The next song started, not as loud as the last, thankfully.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

She kissed me. And my knees buckled. I landed directly into the folding chair that Casey'd been moving around, so we didn't end up on the floor, but the thing made such a clattering noise as I tried to stop it from tipping over.

It turns out that the noise was much louder in my head than it was to everyone else, but a couple of people still turned to see what was going on. The two of us sprang apart when that happened.

Sam and Ralph both turned to look. Sam turned back right away and turned Ralph's head for him. Both of them seemed really amused by what they saw. I made a mental note to kick their asses later, but right then, I had other fish to fry.

"So," I said, trying to catch my breath. "Does that mean..."

"Uh-huh," she said, still crying. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I thought for sure that you really couldn't stand me, but I love you."

"Oh my God," I said, pulling her into a hug. "I'm sorry. Apparently that's how I show affection."

"This is the first time you've ever willingly hugged me," she said.

"I'm an asshole," I said.

"You are," she agreed. "First you wouldn't hug anyone, then you moved up to hugging everyone but me. Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't think anyone would ever believe that I _hated_ you. And you know what? _Nobody_ did. But you. So I guess I really am an asshole," I said."But I guess I'm your asshole, now, unless you see sense and drop me like, like...I dunno. Something you drop?"

She pulled back a little, looking at me like I was crazy.

"I'm not witty under pressure," I said. "You want that, call Edwin. That really was the best I could come up with."

"Actually, it fits," she said. She pulled away and wiped at her eyes with her hands, then looking down at them. "What kinda mess am I making here?"

"You're fine," I said. "Perfect."

"You're full of it," she said. "Did I just ruin your shirt?"

"Nah," I said. "All's cool."

Next thing, I knew we were flooded with people, and Casey started congratulating people. Sam grabbed me by the arm and pulled me off to the side.

"Kay," Sam said. "Two things: One—it's about damn time you kissed her, dude."

"She kissed _me_," I said. "I enjoyed it, but I can't really take credit. She's the smart one, not me."

"Duh," Sam said. "But I'll bug you about that later, because we're up!"

"D-Rock!" Mrs. Zeldin said. "You're next!"

"See?" Sam said.

"Crap," I said.

"And you have schmutz," he said, pointing at his own cheek.

I rubbed at the side of my face. "Did I get it? What was it?"

"Mascara, I think," Sam said.

I scrubbed at my face with my sleeve cuff. Sam handed my guitar to me.

"We need to move it," Sam said. He looked over at Sheldon, who was giving us the evil eye from the doorway.

"Oh, crap," I said, again. I turned around as Sam continued to drag me and I caught Casey's eye. She smiled at me, and I prayed to God that we wouldn't suck.

Part Sixty-Four: Casey.

"You okay?" Noel said from behind me. I spun around.

"Yeah," I said. "Why?" I sniffed.

He sniffed, imitating me. "Because (sniff) you're standing here (sniff) like someone died (sniff) and then you turn around and flash those big red eyes, so forgive me if I'm way off base (sniff) but I had to wonder."

"I'm okay," I said. "I'm actually pretty good."

"Hey," Lisa said, coming over. She tilted my face up, like she was checking for injury. "What happened, baby."

"Everything's okay," I said.

Noel slid an arm around Lisa's waist.

"It's okay," I said. "I'll tell you later."

"Well," Lisa said to Noel. "She _is_ smiling."

"Yep," Noel said.

The music started.

"Damn," I said. "I'm gonna miss it." I ran over and squeezed past way too many people to get a good look at what was happening onstage. Sheldon was in the middle of his piano intro and I got there just in time to see Derek hit the first guitar chord. There was a chorus of squeals behind me when everyone recognized the song. Then Emily stepped forward and sang stalking the stage like a panther. It was amazing, and I was so proud of her. Lisa and I did some more jumping up and down until Edwin turned around and glared at us.

"Do. You. Mind?" he said, gesturing at the camera in his hand.

"Sorry," we said. He turned back to face the stage again. I took off my shoes and she followed my example so that if we felt the need, we could bounce without disturbing anyone.

Noel was actually giving us the stink eye, too, because he was paying really close attention. Not that we weren't but I just really felt like dancing. One peek into the audience showed that I wasn't the only one.

The song ended with a lot of cheering and screaming. It was starting to feel almost like a real concert in here. At least I imagined it did. I've really only been to two shows and one of them was for the Backstreet Boys when I was ten, so I guess I'm not a good judge. But it certainly didn't feel like a school function anymore.

Ralph counted off and began the next song.

"Ooooh," Lisa said.

"What is this?" I asked. It was familiar but I couldn't place it.

"Rob Thomas," Noel said. I nodded.

Sheldon was perfect, as usual, even with such a tongue-twister of a song. He became such a different guy on stage. Emily tried to tell me about this, but I didn't believe her.

"When did Sheldon Schlepper become hot?" A random girl said beside me. I think she was one of the Periwinkles. It caused a dilemma. If I told Sheldon about what this girl said, it would make his day, but if I told him and Emily heard, we'd all have this girl's blood on our hands.

"Pretty sure he was always hot," Lisa said. "The rest of us had to grow up before we saw it."

"Huh?" Noel said.

"Oh please," Lisa said. "You're one of those guys too, so don't act like you don't get it."

"Um," Noel said. "Thanks? Does that make you advanced for your age?"

"You know it," Lisa said, leaning in for a kiss.

I was so happy to have been right about them after all. I'm not usually right.

But back to the song. Derek and Sam were singing back up, along with Em, and they were great. I don't know how they got Sam to do it. If you look up the word "shy" in the dictionary, there's a picture of him hiding behind something. And Derek may be kind of a ham, but I had never heard him sing in his real voice up till that moment. I mean, Mrs. Zeldin must have put him in the male chorus for a reason last year, but it was like he was incapable of being serious and let everyone believe that he was tone deaf. So he was shocking me, too.

Em and Sheldon were so cute, the way they seemed to duel almost and try to top each other. It was kinda hard for them to keep their hands off each other in normal circumstances, but this was Shemily times ten.

We all screamed our heads off at the end of the song. On Edwin's video it's all you can hear at that point. And we traumatized poor Edwin, since he was in the middle of all that noise.

But all too soon, you could hear a pin drop.

Derek's guitar almost sounded like bells ringing. I got immediate goosebumps.

Then he started to sing "The Tracks of My Tears."

All I know is that I started sobbing right then, and sobbed right through it. I just couldn't believe it. A week or so before, when I caught him playing guitar as well as he had, I thought that my mind could not have been any more blown. He sang the song in a lower key than the original and it was a little slowed down and less doo-wop. They kept the background singing to a minimum, and somebody turned up the reverb to make sure that my shivers never went away.

After the bridge, the song took a turn. The guitars got louder and grungier and everybody joined in.

You know, because it's a "serious alt-rock punk band." But surprisingly enough, it worked like a charm.

"Well," Noel said after the applause died down a little. "_They_ won."

Part Sixty-Five: Lizzie.

Mom cried. George looked like he might at any second. Marti stood on a chair and danced, and it was my job to keep the camera steady, though I was absolutely dying to text Edwin during Derek's solo. But if I didn't get that moment on tape, I never would've forgiven myself. And Edwin probably never would've forgiven me, either.

I mean, Derek singing was kind of like a Bigfoot sighting. Edwin and I saw it before, but there's a huge difference between the rehearsal and the actual performance.

Needless to say, the place went mad when the song was over. I zoomed in a little on Derek's face right at the end, and he looked shocked and horrified when the screaming started, like he'd forgotten that people were watching him. He tried to beat it off the stage, but Sam stopped him and made him stand there for a minute. Later, after we'd burned a few copies, we found out that that was one of Mom's favorite moments. Because she replayed it twenty times, at least.

If this didn't do it for Casey, nothing would. I was planning on grilling Edwin for every detail. I prayed that Derek and Casey didn't follow their usual angst and avoidance pattern because I just couldn't take it anymore. I made up my mind that if I didn't hear reports of major making out from backstage, then I wouldn't be talking to either of them.

The last two bands were probably okay. I wouldn't know. I held the camera straight, but it felt like they'd _never_ get off the stage. I wanted three things in this world: a bathroom break, a kiss from Edwin, and an update. Then, finally, the last band was done and Mrs. Zeldon announced a short break. I handed the camera to George and ran like hell to the bathroom. It was a good thing I was on the track team, because everyone had the same idea I'd had. I also had sense enough to use the bathroom in the basement before anyone else thought of it. Then I ran upstairs and backstage and went looking for Edwin. I found Noel and Sheldon.

"No seriously," Noel was saying. "That was the first song I learned."

"'_Iris'_?" Sheldon said.

"My _Mom_ was impressed," Noel said. "Hey Lizzie."

"Sup Lizzie," Sheldon said.

"Hey," I said. "Seen Edwin?"

"Um," Noel said, getting up on tiptoe. "In the corner, over there." He pointed.

"Thanks," I said. I pushed my way through and got to him. He was happy to see me, but after a quick kiss, he realized something.

"Liz?" He asked. "Who'd you give the camera to?"

_Uh-Oh_, I thought. "George," I said. "Mom was crying too hard."

"Aw, man!" Edwin said. He shrugged. "Well, I can get a shot of the announcement from here, and maybe Dad'll get the audio at least."

"At least," I said.

"By the way," Edwin began.

"What?" I asked.

He pointed behind me. I turned to see Derek with his arm around Casey. She was leaning on him and he was leaning against the wall. Both of them looked like Marti did last New Year's Eve, when she tried to stay up all night and made it to 12:03 before crashing. They looked like 12:01.

"Did they?" I asked.

"Ralph says yes," Edwin said. "I missed it."

I wanted to go pump Ralphie for details but he was busy, talking to some rocker girl who I think might have been in the last band. I couldn't find Sam at all.

Mrs. Zeldin called everyone to attention.

"Okay, I need one representative from every band to come onstage," she said.

"Oh my god," I said.

"This is it," Edwin said, turning his camera back on.

"Hey, Smokey," Sheldon said to Derek. "You're up."

"You," Derek said.

"Nuh-uh," Sheldon said. "This is not Schlep-Rock is it? Didn't think so."

Derek didn't move.

"Come on," Sheldon said. "Five minutes, tops, then you can go back to Casey."

Casey blushed.

"You," Derek said, sounding more like Marti every second.

Sheldon laughed. "If you're sure." He smiled and shook his head at both of them.

"Did you think you'd live long enough to see this?" Sheldon asked me.

"I was starting to think I wouldn't," I said.

"Thought I'd die first," Edwin said.

So Sheldon and Noel went out onto the stage with kids from the other three bands. Edwin and I followed them as far as the wings, and Edwin pointed the camera at the stage.

Mrs. Zeldin grabbed the microphone.

"I really think that this might've been the best Clash of the Bands that I've seen since I've been here, and I think that many of you would agree that there are many talented people here tonight," she said, to huge applause and cheering.

"And the choice was incredibly tough," she said. "I, for one, would consider all of you winners..."

"This'll be a while," Edwin said.

"But I have the results right here," Mrs. Zeldin said. She paused for a second, just to mess with everybody, and she got a laugh for that.

"The winner of this year's Clash of the Bands is..." she said.

Then she giggled. I could have killed her myself.

"Arrogant Chicken!"

I jumped out of the way, so people could get by.

I couldn't really hear anything over the screaming, but Casey's head popped off of Derek's shoulder and she looked a little like a startled meerkat. Derek laughed at the look on her face, kissed her quickly, and gave her a little push toward the stage. She made her way through the screaming people and hugged me and Edwin on her way out. Then she got mauled by her bandmates and everyone else from the other bands.

Noel and Sheldon "I'm not worthy'd" each other a little and then Sheldon went backstage again to rejoin Emily, but both of them got dragged back out. Then Noel went back for Derek,who'd come over to watch.

Derek held out his hand for Noel to shake and got pulled onto the stage for his trouble. The noise level went up even more. He went over to where Casey was weeping up a storm and very publicly put his arms around her.

No kiss, unfortunately.

"Baby steps," Edwin said in my ear. He read my mind.


End file.
